


Saltwater on Skin

by CandyQueenAO3



Series: Ilha de Queimada Grande [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Assumed Character Death, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Aziraphale has a Strength Kink, Aziraphale is Ezra Fell, BAMF Anathema Device, BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), BAMF Newton Pulsifer, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley MIGHT have PTSD, Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Crowley has abandonment issues, Domestic Fluff, Double Penetration, EggPreg Jokes, F/M, Feral Crowley (Good Omens), Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Humor, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealous Aziraphale (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), One of them is anyway, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Playlist, Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of, Temporary Character Death, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Weddings, and Ezra is a pretty name, and no concept of personal space, because I lack creativity, but that he has poor social skills, it's kinda vague and up to reader interpretation, light animal violence in regards to predators eating them, not in the sense that he's an animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 185,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23669014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyQueenAO3/pseuds/CandyQueenAO3
Summary: Ezra fell, an award-winning novelist, has just sold the one millionth copy of his newest book. While celebrating with friends and family on a rented yacht, Ezra falls overboard and is washed ashore on an uncharted island. Ever the optimist, he keeps his spirits up while he awaits rescue. That is, until he gets the distinct feeling that he isn't ALONE on this island; that there's SOMETHING else out there.Watching him.*~*~*~*~*EXERPT FROM EPILOGUE CHAPTER 9:Ezra let out a gagged scream of pain, fear, and anger and swung out once more.  The Stranger dodged it easily and climbed atop the bound man until he was sitting atop his chest.  The added weight kept Ezra from squirming and made it hard for him to breathe.  His heart hammered wildly in his chest as the Stranger held the cleaver aloft, ready to bring it down.What wasn’t Crowley waking up?!
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ilha de Queimada Grande [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704274
Comments: 2392
Kudos: 1287
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads, Good Omens Fantasy & Fairy Tales, Good Omens Human AUs, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Our Own Side, Tip Top Stories, Top Crowley Library





	1. Overboard

“To my brother!” Gabriel cheered, lifting a flute of champagne in a toast.

The man in question, Ezra Fell, raised his own flute in answer with a face-splitting grin.

_“And_ to his best book yet!” Ezra’s oldest friend, Anathema, exclaimed, not even bothering to wait for the toast to be completed before gulping down her drink.

“Hear! Hear!” came the resounding cry of the partygoers.

All around Ezra were his family, friends, and various wellwishers. His newest novel, _“The Mermaid’s Tale”_ had just sold a million copies and, as a way of celebrating, his younger brother Gabriel had rented a yacht and hustled everyone on board for a full day of drunken revelry.

The only ones not partaking in the many, _many_ spirits cracked open to share were the captain, Newton Pulsifer, and Ezra himself. 

No, Ezra was more than content to simply bask in the warmth of camaraderie and the thrill of a story well told. Still, he sipped politely at his drink as he made his way to the ship’s railing. He leaned against the cool metal and inhaled the salty-sweet smell of the open ocean. In the distance, just close enough to be in sight, Ezra could make out the shape of an island rising out of the clear blue water.

“It’s _amazing_ out here. _So_ glad we decided to do this,”

_“You_ decided to throw this party. _I_ was quite blindsided,” Ezra chuckled as his brother sidled up beside him.

Gabriel gasped in mock outrage. “Well if _that’s_ the case, I’ll just have Captain Newton turn this boat around and we’ll all go home. Too bad, so sad, guess the party’s over!”

Ezra slugged Gabriel in the arm.

“Don’t you _dare!_ Everyone put so much hard work into this!”

Gabriel rubbed his arm with a wince. “I was _kidding,_ Ez. You need to stop punching me because I’m _pretty_ sure we’re not in international waters yet, so murdering me is still a criminal offense.”

Ezra just rolled his eyes. Despite the sounds of the pulsing music from the yacht’s speakers and the din of the partygoers, he could hear Gabriel's voice when he murmured, “If mom were here, she’d be real proud of you, Ezra.”

Ezra felt his throat close up at the sudden wave of sadness that overtook him. He and Gabriel had been orphaned when they were just twenty-one and sixteen, respectively. Neither of them had known their father, so their mother had been their entire world. Even now, five years later, the wounds were still somewhat fresh.

“I hope so, Gabe. _God_ I hope so,”

Gabriel could sense the shift in the atmosphere and reached out to clap a massive hand on Ezra’s back. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the party before Anathema starts doing her crystal ball potions or palm scrying or whatever it is she does.”

Ezra allowed himself to be steered towards the bow where, sure enough, Anathema had whipped out her deck of tarot cards and was now attempting to rope people into a reading.

“Oh sweet Jesus we’re too late…” groaned Gabriel, burying his face in his hands.

The music (some upbeat bebop thing) dimmed as the timid, stuttering voice of Captain Newton made an announcement. “A-attention all passengers! Attention p-please! We’re approaching choppy seas, so as per company policy, all souls aboard are to d-don their issued flotation devices until we are in safer waters.”

Several party members groaned loud enough for Newton to hear them all the way up in his captain’s cabin. “N-no complaining, please! Or I’ll… I’ll have to turn this ship around!”

The threat of the party ending prematurely was enough to spur everyone into slipping on ghastly orange life vests from a supply trunk passed around by a crew member. Ezra had just managed to tighten the final strap on his own, when he felt the familiar twinge in his bladder of nature calling.

“Anathema, dear, do you know where the loo is?” he asked.

Anathema, who had been staring dreamily at the captain’s cabin, just pointed towards the stern of the yacht. “It’s back there, and the door’s labelled. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, my dear,”

As Ezra made his way down the length of the ship, he could feel the deck bobbing and swaying slightly beneath his feet. When he finally managed to _get_ to the loo, he had to prop one hand against the adjacent wall to avoid stumbling into the urinal.

When he staggered back out, the waves beyond the deck were capped with white and it had become a chore to simply remain _upright._ The deck was slick with water and Ezra was forced to grip the handrailing in a white-knuckle grip.

And then the yacht gave a lurch as it crested one final wave. 

Ezra could only utter a faint, “Oh dear” before he was pitching over the rail and into the warm waters of the open sea. 

The crystalline water closed over his head and, for a brief second, Ezra thought he would sink straight to the bottom of the ocean. Instead, his life jacket did its job and he bobbed back to the surface like a cork, gasping and sputtering the whole way. He pulled his sodden hair away from his eyes to see the yacht sailing away at a decent clip.

There was no _conceivable_ way he’d be able to catch up to it by swimming, so Ezra defaulted to yelling.

“Hey! Hey!! Man Overboard! Help!! Gabriel! Anathema! Come back!”

The rumbling of the boat’s engine as well as the thumping bass of the music drowned ( _Oh goodness!_ ) out the sounds of Ezra’s desperate cries for help. When it became apparent that nobody had noticed his topple into the sea, Ezra gave one long, final cry until his voice cracked and died out.

_Oh no. Oh dear. This isn’t good._

The blonde paddled in a circle, hoping against hope to find another boat that he could signal to or perhaps- there!

The island that Ezra had been watching earlier was in sight. It would be a long, _long_ swim there, but _anything_ was better than floating about as easy prey for sharks or giant squids or what have you.

_Steady on, old chap. Your family is bound to notice you missing. You_ _**just** have to stay alive long enough for rescue to come, and you won’t survive out here. _

With that in mind, Ezra took a breath to compose himself, then started a slow, almost lazy breaststroke to the island in order to conserve his energy. All the while he kept humming merry tunes (in his head, of course) to keep his spirits up.

_What was that lovely little movie with the forgetful blue fish? There was a very delightful song she kept singing. What was it?... Ah! Yes! Just keep swimming… just keep swimming…_

***~*~*~*~***

It took Ezra several hours before he was finally able to drag his aching body ashore. If he’d at all had the stamina for long distance swimming, it would have only taken him one. As it stood, however, he’d had to take frequent breaks to simply float on his back until his arms and legs stopped cramping and he could continue his one-man voyage.

He didn’t even bother crawling completely out of the surf, just flopped inelegantly on the white sand after making sure at least his _head_ was free from the water.

“S-see, Ezra? Nothing to… to it,” he panted.

A tiny, more logical part of his brain was screaming at him to get up and move further away from the water, as it could very well be low-tide at the moment and he wouldn’t fancy being swept out to sea _again_ when it came back in. As it stood, however, the larger and more _incessant_ part of his brain was overwhelmed by sensations of pain and exhaustion; therefore it seemed _perfectly reasonable_ to choose to nap there.

With the last of his strength, Ezra wiggled out of his life jacket to instead use it as a softer (if somewhat soggy) pillow than the ground underneath him. He patted the life jacket with a sleepy, “Good work, er-” then checked the brand name. “IPRA. Yes, thank you, IPRA, for keeping me safe. Rescue shan’t be much longer now.”

He was out before he had even completely put his head back down.

***~*~*~*~***

A sharp jab to the temple was what woke him several hours later. Ezra jolted upright with a yelp. A rather enterprising seagull had apparently hopped over to him and, curious as to what this strange creature was, had given him an investigatory peck. 

Ezra grumbled and waved his arm at the discourteous little thing.

“Shoo, you terror!”

The seagull gave an indignant squawk before taking flight (but not before delivering another quick peck to Ezra’s thigh). Grumbling about “flying sea rats”, Ezra took in his surroundings.

He had evidently been asleep longer than he thought he would be.

The moon had risen directly overhead, casting a soft ring of light around itself. There was not a single cloud in the sky and, without any light pollution, the stars were able to shine in their full, intended glory.

“Oh _my…_ that’s…” gasped Ezra.

A spiral arm of the Milky Way stretched across the entire length of the sky, standing out against the stark blackness of the night. But even that blackness, however, was more of a rich, royal blue than true black, and studded throughout with pinpricks of white light, like diamonds on dark velvet.

Ezra felt tears spring to his eyes that had nothing to with the fact that he was marooned. He had lived in London his entire life and, outside of a handful of photographs in textbooks, never _seen_ so many stars in one place. He put a hand over his chest to feel the fluttering of his heart beneath his finger tips.

“Are you up there, mother?” he sniffled. “If so, I can think of no better place for you to be.”

In the rustling of the trees and the whispering of the waves, Ezra could _almost_ hear her comforting shushes like she would do for him as a child when he had nightmares.

That, of course, was when Ezra realized that he was quite a bit further away from the shore than he had been when he first fell asleep.

_What in the…?_

Though there were no lights beyond starlight for him to see by, Ezra could make out furrows in the sand from the water’s edge all the way up to where he was currently sitting. It looked as if something had _dragged_ him across the beach..

A frisson of fear skittered up the man’s spine. Were there large predators on this island? Surely it couldn’t have been the _seagull_ that had lugged him up to the tree line? Ezra patted himself down, but beyond salt-encrusted clothes, there were no signs of injury on his body. Whatever had moved him hadn’t done so with the intention to eat him.

Was it a person, perhaps? Were there humans living on this island? If so, why hadn’t they tried to wake him up? 

No sir, Ezra didn’t like this new situation _one bit_.

He rose shakily to his feet (muscles screaming at him the entire way) and he called out a tentative, “Hello? Is anybody there?”

His only answer was the sea breeze through the undergrowth. Ezra sat back down and drew his knees up to his chest in a protective embrace.

He wasn’t sure how long it would be until sunrise, but he _was_ sure of one thing.

He wouldn’t be sleeping for the rest of the night.

***~*~*~*~***

“Well, so much for not sleeping,” Ezra groaned as he unlocked his joints the next morning.

Evidently exhaustion had won out over paranoia, as he had drifted off while still seated upright.

Now that the tropical sun was fully risen, and he had had somewhat of a good sleep, Ezra could better take stock of his situation.

Nobody had come to the beach during the night, and (as far as he knew) no ships had passed close enough either. His friends and family would no doubt have sent the Coast Guard out looking for him by now, so it was now only a matter of surviving long enough to _be_ rescued.

_Assuming they don’t just call off the search because they think you’re already dead,_ a spiteful little voice hissed inside his head.

“Nonsense! I’m sure any minute either Anathema or Gabriel or even my dear neighbor Tracy will come sailing up to take me home,” he scoffed.

Ezra’s therapist back home had been urging him to consider using “positive self-talk” when he felt his anxieties creeping up on him. He hadn’t really practiced it much before that point, but there was no time like the present to learn!

_You’re gonna be doing_ _**a lot** of new learning, here. _

_That_ thought wasn’t _completely_ negative, so Ezra let it slide. Instead, he chose to focus on _whatever_ it was that had dragged him further inland last night. It most likely wasn’t some kind of hostile animal, but if it was…

Well…

A good fire would be more than enough to keep it at bay, provided Ezra was able to keep the flames alive.

“Right! Fire! Suppose I’ll need some kindling…”

The man puttered up and down the length of the beach, gathering choice bits of driftwood that felt dry enough set alight. He was tempted to enter the jungle that led deeper into the island, but the thought of coming face-to-face with wild animals had him reconsidering. No, a nice beachfront bonfire would be enough.

Just above the tide line, Ezra dug a shallow pit and heaped the driftwood inside it. His next step, if all the films and books were to be believed, was to simply rub two sticks together to generate enough friction for a spark and _voila!_

After twenty minutes of unsuccessful stick rubbing, Ezra was forced to admit that _maaaaybe_ Tom Hanks movies weren’t the best instructors on fire starting.

His fingers were stiff and red, and the rest of Ezra felt like crying in frustration. He chucked the sticks into the firepit with the rest of the wood with a cry of, _“Balderdash!” [1]_

Just as soon as he did so, however, something thudded into the sand behind him. Ezra whirled around, scared that it might be that _rude_ seagull again, only to find a blackish-brown rock the size of his fist and a flat, slightly warped strip of metal lying there instead.

Had those always been there?

Never one to look a gift horse (or rock) in the mouth, Ezra picked up his new treasures and returned to his fire pit. He had once read something about _flint_ being a good firestarter. Perhaps that’s what the stone was?

Experimentally, he slid the rock down the length of the metal and was rewarded with a shower of sparks. Ezra gasped in delight! It _was_ flint!

It took him several tries (and experimenting with different structures of the driftwood) before he was _finally_ able to get a small fire going. Ezra leapt to his feet with a whoop, spinning in tight circles as he did so.

“It worked! It _worked! ”_ he cheered. “Oh _thank you! ”_

Ezra wasn’t quite sure _who_ he was thanking (either God, the spirit of his mother, or the universe at large) but it _had_ to be said. No beasties would be getting _him_ tonight!

All that work, however, had made him _thirsty_ and Ezra was confronted with a _new_ host of problems. He couldn’t drink sea water (lest he risk swift kidney failure preceded by madness) and as far as he could see, there was no freshwater spring to be found. His best bet would be to venture into the jungle and attempt to find water _there_ , but…

The trees beyond loomed large, like a spectre. Ezra was reminded of books about children stranded on a deserted island who had ventured into the jungle and returned worshipping a pig’s head on a pike! He shuddered hard enough to shake the dried salt from his shoulders.

He didn’t _want_ to enter the jungle, but at this point, did he really have a choice? Ezra’s eyes scanned the treeline, looking for the best angle to enter it that would result in the least amount of destruction to his already ruined clothes.

_Just palm trees and coconut trees as far as the eye can…_

_Wait…_

_Coconuts!_

Seeing as there was no electricity, a metaphorical candle went off over Ezra’s head instead. Coconuts had water! Or was it milk? Both? It didn’t matter, they had _drinkable liquids!_

The only problem now, however, was getting them down from the tree. Ezra didn’t exactly consider himself _athletic_ , but he _had_ climbed a tree or two in his youth. Granted, they were regular trees, with branches and everything, but surely the same principle applied?

As it turned out, the same principle did _not_ apply. With no branches to rest his weight on or to act as footholds, Ezra had to dig his shoes into the bark, squeeze the trunk between his thighs, and inch his way upwards. It was quite a bit more difficult than he was expecting, but he felt the effort was _well_ worth it when he was able to free half a dozen or so green coconuts from their perch.

He had no knife or machete to peel away the dense, fibrous layer that protected the water within, but he _did_ have a rocky outcropping by the shoreline and a dogged determination to _survive._

Ezra bashed the coconut against the jagged, hip-high rock and it cracked enough to allow the juice to dribble free. The man didn’t hesitate to press his lips to the hole, tilt his head back, and drink it down like the life-sustaining liquid it was. 

Ezra had never tasted fresh coconut water before, so he was mildly surprised to find it slightly tangy with a floral finish.

“Goodness! That isn’t like a pina colada _at all!”_ he exclaimed.

It was far from a complaint; more of a fascinated observation. 

Smacking the now empty shell against the rock some more yielded the tender meat inside, but Ezra knew that coconuts alone would not sustain a human body for long. His muscles would need a source of protein and, seeing as there was no creatine powder available, the fish swimming in the shallows would have to suffice.

Catching them with a rod and line was out of the question, so sharpening one end of a long stick into a point using the mysterious flint would be a close second.

This time when Ezra stepped into the ocean, he had the luxurious option of removing his shoes, pants, and shirt so as not to ruin them further. Carefully, so as not to frighten his “prey” away, Ezra shuffled into the water until it was just below his knee. His initial movements startled the fish, but after a minute or two of standing stock-still, they returned to their usual patterns of behavior.

“I wonder if any of these little fellows are used in sushi…” he whispered to himself.

When one of them drifted close enough, Ezra stabbed downward with his makeshift spear. The fish was quicker, however, and darted out of range. The other fish were startled in turn, and swam a few feet further from the shore. It was certainly frustrating, but by no means discouraging.

Ezra just huffed his frustration, then waded out further. He didn’t _want_ to dirty his good boxers anymore than he already had during his first tumble into the sea, but at this point he didn’t have much of an option if he wanted to catch a fish while still preserving his modesty.

_From who?! There’s no one here but you!_ Chided the little voice.

“Oh hush, you. I have _standards,”_

Ezra swallowed his stupid standards, and walked further until the water was _just_ above his solar plexus. Out here the fish were a bit bigger and less skittish, but the current had grown stronger to the point where Ezra had to dig his heels into the sand to find purchase.

One of them had swum into range, so Ezra seized his chance. He drove the spear into the water, but the force behind his swing sent him toppling over. Right before the current sucked him down, he could have _sworn_ he heard shouting from the shore.

Ezra had enough presence of mind to acknowledge that this was _twice_ in less than 24 hours wherein he found himself at the mercy of the sea, but at the moment he couldn’t be arsed to care. He tumbled head over heels under the water and his journey was only halted by his left leg _slamming_ into a bright orange, fanned piece of coral that sliced into his calf and turned the water around him red with blood.

Ezra cried out in pain, his screams floating to the surface in tortured bubbles. He fought to right himself and made for the surface. Now free from the worst of the current, Ezra was able to take heaving gulps of air 

_Oh this is bad. This is very,_ very _bad!_

If he didn’t get back on dry land _soon,_ his injury could attract reef sharks! 

Or he could bleed out.

Neither sounded like good options.

Ezra let his bad leg dangle limply behind him as he swam for safety. Red trailed in his wake like he was staining the canvas of the ocean with the ink of his blood. He wasn’t quite sure how much of it he was losing, but the ringing in his ears accompanied by blurred vision and dizziness meant it was too much.

If he could just get back to the shore, he could use his shirt or pants as a bandage until the worst of it stopped.

“N-not a… tourniquet…” he slurred as his toes brushed the sand. “...that’ll… th-that will… mmmmake worse…”

Ezra was reminding himself of this, as every other thought seemed to be leaking out of him along with his lifeblood. 

Oh.

When had he fallen over?

The sand was nice and _warm_ and he felt so _cold_ that it was a pleasant balm against his feverish skin.

There was _something_ wrong with this picture, but Ezra, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what. Something important…

Something about red?

Wine maybe?

Eh, it didn’t matter.

He’d feel better after a nap…

***~*~*~*~***

The darkness in Ezra’s vision parted like fog before a headlamp. The ringing in his ears had, mercifully, abated, but he still felt rather discombobulated.

Just what had happened?

Then he remembered the spear-fishing attempt, getting swept out by the tide, _bleeding…_

He sat bolt upright with a gasp and almost immediately regretted doing so. His head was _pounding_ and it felt like the world had suddenly tilted 45°. 

“Where…”

His voice trailed off as he realized he was in a _cave!_ The walls and ceiling were, well, _cavernous_ and illuminated by a bluish-green fungus that cast everything in a soft, strangely comforting glow. It was completely silent, save for the dripping of water somewhere nearby and Ezra’s own frantic breathing.

_How_ had he gotten here? What was going _on?!_

He tried to push himself to his feet but cried out in pain. His left leg hurt when he tried to put weight on it, but otherwise it only stung a little. He turned it over to get a better look at the gash and choked on a whimper.

His leg had been, in a word, _bandaged._

Some kind of exotic-looking leaf had been wrapped around his entire calf from ankle to knee. When he touched it, the leaf felt cool and glossy and squelched beneath his fingers. It didn’t feel like it was his own infected flesh doing the squelching, but more like a thick layer of ointment.

“What in Heaven’s name?” he whispered, scared that if he spoke any louder he would have a breakdown.

His trepidation lasted all of three seconds before he _did_ have a miniature breakdown.

_“Who_ is doing this?!” he shrieked. His own voice echoed back against the stone. “I’m not an idiot, whoever you are. I _know_ it was you who dragged me up the shore that first night, and I _know_ it was you who gave me the flint! And even if you hadn’t, _this-”_ he gestured at his leg. “-would be proof enough that you’re out there! _Thank you_ for helping me, but _please_ show yourself!”

His voice cracked. He hadn’t felt so small in a _very_ long time. “I… I’m _scared,”_ he whimpered and curled in on himself.

For a few moments, Ezra couldn’t hear anything over the sounds of his own crying. Then, he heard it.

It was a rasping, scraping sound like something _heavy_ being dragged over the ground. Ezra felt his blood run cold. It was coming closer.

“Oh dear _God!”_

He made to stand, but his leg gave out and he landed hard on his side. He was wounded, trapped in a cave with some large predator, and had _nothing_ to defend himself with! Ezra scrambled around for a heavy rock to use as a weapon, but the ground was as smooth as- _whatever_ it was that was smooth!

And the noise was _just getting closer!_

_I’m going to die here. I’m going to die lost and alone and half-naked on some deserted island, swallowed alive by a giant monster!_

Ezra couldn’t stifle the flood of tears as he threw his arms over his head with a scream.

Then a pair of rough, but blessedly _human_ hands, covered his wrists.

“You… scared?”

The stranger’s voice was gravelly, most likely from disuse, but to Ezra it sounded more beautiful than all the angelic choirs. He sobbed in relief.

“Oh thank _heavens!_ I thought for sure I was going to-”

His words sputtered and died when he opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. It was a man…

...from the waist up.

The man’s bare torso was thin, but well defined with long arms lean with muscle. His face was all angles framed by a shock of red hair that curled down his back. His eyes were _captivating._ They were human enough, save for the iris being the color of spun gold and sliced right down the middle by a slit-shaped pupil.

That was about where the human similarities ended.

From the waist _down_ the man’s skin melded into a _massive_ snake tail that was wider than Ezra’s entire body and covered in black scales with a red underbelly that matched his hair. 

Ezra wasn’t quite sure what to think. He’d read plenty of stories about nagas and lamias (some of them a touch _racier_ than the blurb on the back cover had promised) but to actually _see_ one in person… his brain gave up thinking entirely in favor of just gaping, slack-jawed.

The naga removed one of his hands from Ezra's wrist to gently guide the blonde’s mouth shut. 

“You scared. Sorry,” it said, voice soft.

Ezrra’s mouth just popped open again with a wheezing squeak. “I… I must be dead. Or hallucinating. Only explanation really.”

The naga’s face contorted into a mixture of indignation and anger. He pressed the tips of all ten fingers to Ezra’s chest and whispered, “Not dead. _Safe,”_ and then pulled them back to slap at his _own_ chest with his broad palms. “Saved.”

Ezra blinked a few times then squawked, “You can _understand_ me?!”

The naga looked pleased with himself.

“Yes. Speak. But not good,” he boasted. “Understand better.”

Ezra’s mind was now racing too fast for him to properly get a grip on any one thought. This creature understood him perfectly, but seemed to struggle with translating his own thoughts into a spoken form. Was it the snake half or the human half responsible for that? The simple fact that he understood Ezra at _all_ was a testament to his intelligence!

Ezra sat back heavily on his haunches. It had all suddenly become too much for his already weakened constitution and the ground was very fast becoming a comfortable-looking spot to have a bit of a lie down until the world made sense again. He felt himself tip backward, but was kept from doing so by the naga’s hands clamping around his upper arm.

Like he weighed little more than a sack of flour, Ezra was gathered up into a pair of whipcord arms and cradled against the naga’s chest.

“Safe. Protected. Have you,”

The creature’s chest rumbled under where Ezra’s cheek was pressed against it. Any individual with a scrap of self-preservation instincts would have run screaming from the cave like the Devil himself was at their heels. Ezra, however, had had a _very_ difficult day and was just thankful that he hadn’t been devoured or drowned or bled out or any of the other _hundreds_ of reasons one died on a deserted island.

He would grapple with the existence of the supernatural when he _wasn’t_ feeling like a bag of rocks.

“Do you have a name?” Ezra asked.

The naga shifted his tail until he could lean back against it like it was a scaly bean bag chair and replied, “Crowley. You?”

“I’m Ezra Fell,”

The creature, Crowley, worked his jaw as if he were trying to get a particularly stubborn piece of spinach out of his teeth. His forked tongue popped out for a moment before retreating.

“E… Ezr… F...” he grunted, then huffed. “Angel.”

Ezra couldn’t hold back a laugh. Crowley apparently was having trouble pronouncing his name and had settled for calling him something else.

“Alright then, you can call me ‘angel’,” Ezra hummed.

Crowley grinned in response, flashing a set of fangs that had Ezra briefly debating if cuddling up to a monster from legend had been a wise idea. But the naga didn’t bite him. Crowley just leaned over slightly and pressed his face into the crook of the smaller human’s neck.

“Angel,” he purred.

Something tickled at Ezra’s pulse point and he giggled at the sensation. Too tired to fight Crowley off should he need to and too woozy to consider the ramifications of a giant snake-man rubbing his face against him like a giant cat-man instead, Ezra just mumbled, “I might take a nap. Don’t you _dare_ eat me or I shall be quite cross!”

“Promise. No eating. Angel too sweet,”

Ezra let his eyes slide shut.

_“Mate_ too sweet,”

His eyes snapped open again.

***~*~*~*~***

1Ezra was unique in how he approached swearing. When truly upset, it was a 50/50 shot as to whether he would use standard curse words (Fuck, Shit, Damn, etc) or more "esoteric" ones (Badlerdash, Jiminy Christmas, Blazes, etc)[return to text]


	2. Beginnings of a Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Ezra's friends and family discover his disappearance and Crowley begins attempting to woo his chosen mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the Author (Who is Also a Trained Medical Professional): 
> 
> If exposed to a rash, cut, or burn from Fire Coral, treat it by following these steps: Rinse with seawater (avoid freshwater as it agitates the stinging cells and causes more pain), Apply a topical vinegar or Isoproryl alcohol to the affected area, Remove coral bits or stinging tentacles with a pair of tweezers, Immobilize the extremity (movement may cause the venom to spread), and apply Hydrocortisone as needed for itching. If no signs of infection are present, pain may be treated with OTC pain relivers (like ibuprofen). If signs of an allergic reaction occur, seek immediate medical help. Fire Coral allergies are rare, but they do occur.

**36 Hours Earlier**

Anathema was several drinks in and deciding whether or not she wanted to barge into the captain’s cabin to flirt with the _adorable_ Captain Newton, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun around and nearly bumped into the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.[1]

_God, that big bastard can move quietly_ , Anathema thought. _How is he the younger brother?_

“Hey, Anathema, have you seen Ezra? I think I may have accidentally brought up some painful memories for him earlier. I wanted to give him some space and then apologize, but I haven’t been able to find him,”

“Yeah. A little bit ago he was asking where the bathroom was so I pointed him in the right direction,”

“And how long ago was that?”

Anathema had to stop and think. It had to have been _at least_ twenty minutes. At Anathema’s pause, Gabriel felt a little twinge of concern. The smaller woman quickly scrambled to comfort him. “Ah, I’m sure Ezra’s fine. He probably just had a bit of seasickness or something. He might appreciate you checking on him, though.”

Gabriel nodded his assent and made for the restroom at the stern of the ship. He rapped a knuckle against the door.

“Are you in there, Ezra? Anathema said you might have been feeling sick?”

No answer. Gabriel knocked again and repeated himself, but the silence was the same. He closed a hand over the doorknob and called out, “I’m coming in! If you’re in there, stop me before I do!”

When nobody stopped him, Gabriel opened the door. 

The bathroom was completely empty.

“Ezra?”

Gabriel stepped out of the bathroom, feeling more worried than ever. He caught sight of a waiter walking by with a tray of canapes and pulled the young man aside.

“Good afternoon, sir!” The boy chirped. “I hope you and your friends are enjoying the voyage!”

“We are. Thank you. Have you seen the Guest of Honor anywhere? Ezra Fell? He’s a head shorter than me, kinda soft, with white-blonde hair,”

The waiter hummed in thought before shaking his head. “Can’t say I have, sir. Would you like me to help you look for him? It’s not uncommon for guests to sometimes wander into the restricted areas of the ship.”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,”

The waiter passed off his tray to a colleague and began guiding Gabriel on an impromptu tour of the yacht’s underbelly. The ship wasn’t too big by _any_ stretch of the imagination, but it was a decent enough size for people to miss each other. The two of them wandered into the kitchen, storage area, and even the maintenance room, but no Ezra was ever found.

By the end of it, Gabriel was _fully_ worried and even the waiter seemed perturbed.

“I’ll take you back to the upper deck, sir. Once we get there, see if anyone else has found Mr. Fell and I’ll speak to the Captain about taking a role call,”

Gabriel nodded his thanks and went to seek out Anathema again. The occultist was lounging on a deck chair and sunbathing. When Gabriel’s massive shadow blocked out the light, she lifted her sunglasses with an unamused glare.

“Can you move, Gabe? You’re a _literal_ one-man solar eclipse,”

“I can’t find Ezra, and he’s not anywhere on the ship,” Gabriel blurted.

_That_ got Anathema to sit straight up. “What? What do you mean you can’t find him?!”

The yacht’s loudspeakers crackled on and Captain Newton’s voice piped out, “Attention! Your attention please! All guests and personnel are ordered to report to the bow for an immediate head count. Repeat: Immediate head count! This is not a request!”

Several of the partygoers groaned at being interrupted _again_ , but Anathema and Gabriel just shared a tense look.

Once everyone was gathered, Captain Newton strode up and down the deck, rattling off names from the Employee and Guest Ledger. One by one, every person responded, but Ezra Fell never did.

“Captain!” exclaimed a crew member, running up to Newton, out of breath. “I just performed a quick count of all the life vests. One is missing!”

“Oh that’s not good…” mumbled Captain Newton. He faced the gathered crowd. “Everyone, may I have your attention? We have a man overboard. I repeat: Man overboard.”

The crowd erupted into gasps and screams. Anathema let out a strangled wail and Gabriel surged forward to seize the smaller man by the front of his shirt.

“What the _fuck_ do you mean by ‘man overboard’?!” he snarled. “Are you telling me my brother is _out there?!”_ He waved a hand at the vast expanse of the ocean and Newton nodded weakly. “You _bastard!_ I’m gonna sue this business for _everything_ you have! I’ll-”

_“Gabriel!”_

Anathema gripped his arm and pulled him away. “It’s _not_ the Captain’s fault! It’s _nobody’s_ fault! We all signed the waiver, we _all_ knew this was a risk! All we can do now is try to look for him and contact the Coast Guard.”

Gabriel’s chest heaved and he looked like he wanted to break something. Instead he wrenched himself away to lean over the handrailing and scream Ezra’s name into the air. His eyes desperately scanned the horizon in the hopes of catching a glimpse of white hair or an orange life jacket, but the endless line of blue was all he could see.

“Sir, the ship has enough fuel to retrace our route to some degree, but we can’t go back all the way. We’re three-quarters of the way through the voyage, so if we can’t find Mr. Fell in the time before we use up the extra fuel, we’ll need to get back en-route and contact the Coast Guard for assistance,” Captain Newton explained, still nervous but at least marginally more composed now that he wasn’t being directly threatened.

Gabriel’s shoulders were a hard line and his hands clamped so tightly around the railing that they burned. He didn’t answer the Captain, just continued his silent vigil.

_Please, God._

_Don’t take my brother too._

***~*~*~*~***

**Present Time**

“Mate too sweet,”

Ezra’s eyes snapped open. He felt all of his exhaustion drain away in the wake of a surge of pure adrenaline.

_Surely he doesn’t mean…_

Ezra patted Crowley’s chest with a frantic, nervous laugh. “Ah ha, good joke, my dear. I know you mean _friends_.”

He lifted his gaze to meet Crowley’s but the naga was just staring down at him in bafflement.

“No. Mate,” his rough hands traced down the side of Ezra’s face to cup his cheek, his smile unbearably tender. “ _Mate.”_

_Oh **fuck** no!_

Ezra pushed away from Crowley and would have landed on his back, had a large tail not caught him halfway down. The blonde struggled in its grasp, but that only seemed to encourage Crowley to tighten his coils further in fear of dropping him. Ezra twisted in the naga’s hold until he could glare up at a pair of bright, slightly worried eyes.

“I can’t be your _mate!”_ Ezra exclaimed.

Crowley cocked his head like a confused dog. “No? Why?”

“Ah, er, it’s-”

Ezra felt the loop of tail gently deposit him back onto the ground where he sat with his legs splayed out. Crowley scooted away and fiddled with a lock of hair, looking everywhere _but_ at the human’s face.

“Already have mate?” he murmured, obviously downcast.

For some inexplicable reason, Ezra couldn’t find it in himself to lie to his rescuer.

“N-no. I don’t have a- er- mate, Crowley. It’s just me I’m afraid,” he mumbled sadly, patting the naga’s massive tail.

Crowley’s entire mood shifted 180° and he let out a noise of delight.

_“My_ mate?” he asked, excited, and patted his own chest. 

It was a question very clearly asking, “Will you be _my_ mate, then?”

_“No,_ Crowley!” Ezra exclaimed, nearing the edge of his sanity. He didn’t _want_ to end up married to a giant snake-man, but he _also_ didn’t want to end up eaten for _rejecting_ said giant snake-man, so he scrambled to come up with a reasonable excuse for why they couldn’t be together. “We can’t be mates because… um… it just wouldn’t work. _Physically!”_

Crowley still looked confused, but at least he wasn’t pouting anymore. Ezra waved his hands in the vague vicinity of where the human skin on the naga’s stomach met the scales of his pelvis.

“You don’t have a…” Ezra cleared his throat against the rising tide of embarrassment threatening to claw its way out. “...penis.”

Ezra knew sexual activity was not the end-all-be-all of a relationship; plenty of his asexual friends had loving partners without the need for physical intimacy. However, claiming he and Crowley couldn’t be mates because the naga lacked the necessary parts to do so was his current best chance of getting out of the situation at hand.

At least, until Crowley pointed at a scale on his underbelly _(right where a penis would be!_ Shrieked Ezra’s internal voice) that seemed a _liiitle_ bit larger than the ones below it and then Ezra’s memories of a brief lesson on reptile reproductive capabilities during a visit to the London Zoo came crashing back to him with all the force of a flaming Bentley.

Words like “hemipenes” and “vent” swam before his vision and he had to fight to keep his face from going completely scarlet. 

“W-well...my apologies, Crowley. I did not mean to cause any offense,” he stammered.

“Mates, then?” came the excited reply.

Oh this was _terrible!_ Crowley was seemingly hell-bent on claiming Ezra as a bride or a mate or _whatever_ it was that naga’s devoted their eternity to. Ezra wanted to cry.

In fact, he _did_ cry.

When the first tear met the floor of the cave Crowley swooped in to cradle the human’s face in his hands. 

“Mate crying. Why? Hurt?”

“Oh, Crowley, this is… this…” Ezra sniffled. He was tired, woozy, _scared_ , and he wanted to go _home._ “...this is just too _fast!_ We haven't been courting or dating or-”

Crowley released Ezra’s face with a long, low groan to smack at his own forehead.

_“Sorry,_ angel. Forgot. Courting! Forgot courting!” 

The naga kept grumbling, “Dumb. Dumb snake. Forgot.” and Ezra felt _hope_ blossoming in his chest. 

It was clear that Crowley still desired Ezra as a mate, but it would appear that, in his haste, the Naga had apparently forgotten to perform whatever constituted as a proper mating ritual for his species. If Ezra could extend the courtship until rescue arrived…

Plan fully in mind, Ezra sat up straighter and folded his hands primly in his lap.

“That’s right, you silly snake,” he said in a voice far more confident than he truly felt. “If you wish for me to accept you as a mate, I need to ensure that you can provide for me, protect our nest, those sort of things.”

Ezra was 95% certain that snakes didn’t _actually_ need either of those things before choosing a mate, but the way Crowley was bouncing up and down on his tail rendered it a moot point.

“Yes! Courting!” Was the Naga’s elated answer. He took Ezra’s hands in his. “Flowers and food and shiny rocks and protection and songs and dancing and-”

Crowley was babbling more words than Ezra had ever heard him say before (granted, he had only known him a short time). The human even suspected that Crowley might have just been listing off courtship behaviors he saw other animals on his island engage in in the hopes that something would stick.

It really _was_ rather sweet…

Before he could second guess himself (and perhaps, to ensure that Crowley believed he was “serious” about being courted) Ezra pulled Crowley down by his arms to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

The naga went stiff and uttered a squeak of surprise. He flinched back, covering the spot he had been kissed with his hand. “What _that?!”_

“It’s called a _kiss,_ Crowley. It’s how humans show affection,”

Crowley’s brow furrowed in contemplation. Then he uttered, “Other kinds?”

“Yes, indeed. There’s kisses on the forehead for family or comfort, kisses on the cheeks for friendship or greetings, kisses on the hands for deference or flirting, kisses on the mouth for lust or love-”

Crowley surged down and claimed Ezra’s mouth with his own. The closed-mouth kiss was clumsy, amateurish, and almost bruising in its pressure. Ezra made a little noise of surprise, and found his hands coming to rest on Crowley’s jaw so he could ease the larger man (snake?) back a little so their kiss was less rough.

Crowley’s lips were surprisingly soft and cool against Ezra’s own chapped and over-heated ones. The human tilted his head a little to better adjust the angle and Crowley let out a faint groan. The naga was the first to pull away with a flirtatious grin. “Understand _those_ kisses.”

Ezra’s eyes blinked open (he hadn’t even noticed they were closed) and he cleared his throat.

“Yes. Well. Now you know what kisses are and what they’re for,”

Crowley’s forked tongue darted out to lick at the corner of his mouth, as if chasing Ezra’s taste.

_Oh good Lord._

Ezra wasn’t sure if that thought was one of disgust or… something else. When it started looking like Crowley was going to lean in for a second kiss, Ezra scooted backwards.

“I’m _very much_ looking forward to being courted by you, my dear,” he nervously jabbered. “But it’s- well- I’m quite tired and-”

Crowley’s face lit up. “Nest! Show you nest!”

“Pardon me?”

Ezra yelped as Crowley’s powerful arms came up around his shoulders and the backs of his knees. He flung his arms around Crowley’s neck to hold on as the naga slithered his way further into the cave. 

_He moves quite fast for someone with no legs…_

The two of them ducked into tunnels and wound past stalagmites until arriving in a room that was much smaller than the one Ezra awoke in. 

This chamber was roughly the size of Ezra’s bedroom back in London. Several inches of warm sand were spread across the floor, with a soft, dark blanket layered on top of it. Pillows, cushions, and quilts were piled about pell mell and Ezra realized that they must have been scavenged from shipwrecks on the island or from jettisoned cargo.

The walls sloped upwards and were speckled with the same moss in the rest of the cavern, but these clumps radiated a turquoise light instead that reflected off the white crystals embedded in the rock. The overall effect was not unlike the same stars that Ezra had been marvelling over the previous night.

“Oh, _Crowley!_ This is…” Ezra breathed.

“You like?”

If Crowley had any feet, he would surely have been shuffling them. Ezra beamed up at him with watery eyes. “This is _beautiful!”_

The naga’s shoulders slumped in relief, then he started nudging some cushions into a pile with his tail. He gently deposited Ezra down onto the heap.

“Stay here. Rest. Hurt,”

“Really, dear, I’m _quite_ fine,”

Ezra made to move, but a powerful hand on his sternum pushed him back down into the pillows.

“No. _Stay,”_ Crowley urged, his tone booking no room for argument. “Hurt. Need rest.”

Ezra knew that Crowley wasn’t planning on letting him leave their nest any time soon (a human having a nest, wasn’t that an odd thought?) so he figured he might as well make himself comfortable until he felt strong enough to stand. He gave an experimental shimmy of his body. Oddly, none of the blankets or pillows smelled like they had been in a serpent’s den for who-knows-how-long. Instead, they smelt like the ocean breeze wafting through trellises of Moonflowers. Ezra turned his head to bury his nose in the pile and inhaled deeply.

The pillows shifted and Ezra rolled over to see Crowley sprawled beside him, head propped up on one hand and a smile on his face. The smile wasn’t predatory or lascivious or anything else that would have concerned Ezra. Instead, it was small, tender, dreamy; like Crowley couldn’t believe his luck. The length of his tail curled around the both of them in a protective embrace.

“I know I said it earlier… or, well, _screamed_ it earlier, but thank you, Crowley,” Ezra’s hand twitched, then closed the distance between them to rest over Crowley’s arm. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Welcome, angel. Sleep now. I protect,”

Ezra’s eyes were fluttering shut and he suspected that this time they would stay that way.

“I know you will,”

***~*~*~*~***

Gabriel stood on the beach at Camber. He stared out towards the place where the falling sun met the rising tide. Behind him, he heard feet crunching across the sand.

“Gabe, please, it’s been almost two days. You need to get some rest,”

Anathema’s words had no effect on him. He simply continued watching the waves. Anathema tried using logic. “Watching the sea like you’re some kind of pining widow isn’t going to get him back. The Coast Guard is doing everything they can, and if-” She stumbled. _“-when_ they find him, they’ll let us know.”

When Gabriel finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Do you think he drank anything before he fell over?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think he drank anything?” Gabriel turned to face her with red-rimmed eyes. “A human can only go three days before dying of dehydration. If he had drank some water or something before he fell in he might… he might last a bit longer.”

Anathema, for once, didn’t have an answer for him. She pulled off her glasses to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her breathing was shaky and her shoulders trembled. The idea of her best friend floating adrift, dying a slow, painful death to dehydration was too painful to think about.

So she didn’t.

She slipped her glasses back on and the corners of her mouth cracked up in an agonizing facsimile of a smile.

“Hey, maybe he got rescued by a mermaid or something. Like the protagonist in his book,”

That, surprisingly, forced a laugh out of Gabriel. “Yeah. Knowing Ezra, once he was back ashore, he’d run straight to his computer to start typing up his experience.”

Anathema joined him, but their laughter was stilted and awkward. It was the kind of laugh people gave each other at the funeral of a loved one to keep from collapsing into grief.

***~*~*~*~***

A burning, scorching _pain_ forced Ezra awake. He jolted upright in the nest, not even bothering to acknowledge that Crowley had been asleep practically on top of him with both arms wound around his hips. Such details were trivial compared to the searing _heat_ that was spreading outward from his calf wound. Ezra doubled over with a whimper, and Crowley was instantly checking him over.

“Angel hurt? What wrong?”

_“Pain,”_ Ezra gasped. “M-my leg. Feels like _l-lava_ in my veins!”

Crowley held Ezra’s injured leg in one gentle hand while his other ripped away the leaf bandage. Ezra groaned at the sudden movement, but didn’t otherwise protest. The gash itself looked, for the most part, healthy, but the flesh around it was an angry, inflamed red. Crowley scented the air near it with his tongue, then hissed.

_“Fire Coral,”_ he growled. “Will fix.”

“‘Fire wha-?’ Crowley y-you aren’t making any-”

Ezra was yanked out of his cozy spot into a sweeping bridal carry and then they were out of the room so fast that some of the smaller blankets were whipped into the air. The burning was getting to be almost overwhelming, and Ezra was fairly certain he had left marks on Crowley’s neck from where his nails were digging into the tanned skin.

Ezra whined at the motion that jostled his injured leg. A pair of cool lips pressed against his forehead.

“Kiss for comfort,” murmured Crowley.

_Damn if that didn’t help a little…_

When they emerged from the cave into the surrounding jungle Ezra moaned in slight relief. The night air felt _fantastic_ against his scorching flesh.

“Wh-where are we going?” he panted into Crowley’s collarbone.

“Ocean. Ocean water helps,”

The jungle’s dense undergrowth parted like the Red Sea before Crowley _(were those plants trembling?)_ and it wasn’t long before Ezra felt droplets of sea spray on his feverish face.

“C-Cro…”

“Ssh, angel. No talking. Relax,”

Crowley slithered into the surf, carrying Ezra with him. At the first touch of water on his toes, Ezra pulled away with a sob. Crowley just continued “ssh”-ing him as the naga went deeper. The warm ocean water closed over Ezra’s legs and he expected the pain to increase. Much to his surprise, however, it had the opposite effect. The heat and agony was sapped away almost instantly under the soft undulations of the waves.

For the first time since waking up to a world of fire, Ezra was able to think clearly. 

“If this keeps up I’m to run out of ways to say ‘thank you for saving me’,” Ezra chuckled, unconsciously cuddling closer to Crowley. “I feel _so_ much better.”

Crowley didn’t say anything. He shifted his body so that he was sitting on his coils with one loop of them slightly in front, like he was crossing his legs (if he’d had any). Carefully, he twisted Ezra around so that the human’s back was pressed against his chest and he was seated in his lap. At this angle, Ezra’s upper torso and head were poking above the water and Crowley was able to rest his chin atop a mess of platinum curls.

Ezra didn’t hesitate to give the arms wrapped around his chest a squeeze.

“How long do I have to stay in the water, my dear?”

“Not long. But often until healed,”

Ezra let himself go completely slack in the naga’s hold. Crowley was a bit larger than him, certainly denser with the added muscle of his tail, so he held no fear of being swept away this time. He listened to the rhythmic song of the sea, felt the steady rise and fall of the chest behind him, and his mind began to wander.

He thought about Gabriel and Anathema.

_Oh, they must be worried_ _**sick.** I can’t imagine how I would feel if our roles were reversed. I hope I’m rescued soon, Gabriel’s probably devastated. Anathema’s most likely _ **_furious_ ** _with me that I was clumsy enough to fall overboard._

In truth, Ezra was fighting to keep a positive attitude. There was always the very real possibility that rescue would never come. They might end the search after several unsuccessful days and write him off as just another unfortunate casualty of the ocean.

The thought of his friends and family fearing him dead forced stinging tears to Ezra’s eyes. He didn’t _want_ to leave his little brother all alone!

_Mother, if you can hear me, watch over Gabriel until I can come home. He’ll need the comfort now more than ever. But I promise, even if they give up on me, I_ _won’t give up on them! I’ll find_ **_some_ **way _off this island, even if I have to build a boat myself and_ **_row!_**

There was also one _very large_ Snake in the Room that needed to be addressed.

Crowley.

Ezra’s mind was still somewhat reeling from the naga’s existence. Was Crowley the only one of his kind? How long had he been living on this island for? 

_What will he do when I leave?_

That question sent a pang of _something_ unpleasant through Ezra’s heart. Crowley, for all his fearsome appearance and _complete_ lack of understanding of human relationships, was genuinely sweet. He was gentle, kind, and even downright snarky at times. 

Ezra pictured the naga’s face twisted into a look of hurt and betrayal when he inevitably rejected his suit to return home, and that made the bad feeling in his heart double. He truly didn’t expect Crowley to try and _force_ him to remain on the island as his mate, so the feeling wasn’t fear.

It wasn’t guilt either, at least not entirely. The emotion felt like…

... _loss._

Ezra jolted so hard at the appearance of the word that he would have tumbled out of Crowley’s lap had the naga not tightened his hold slightly.

“Hurt, angel?” There was concern in his voice.

“N-no, dear, I’m alright. Just a… a bit of seaweed touched my foot is all,” Ezra fibbed.

Crowley hummed in agreement.

“Slimy. Not good food,”

“Well to _you_ it’s not,” huffed Ezra. “I’ll have you know that a good bit of Nori can make all the difference between _good_ Inari Sushi and _bad_ Inari Sushi.”

Crowley nodded along, pretending to know what any of those foods were.

“Oh I _do_ miss sushi already,” Ezra lamented.

“What ‘sushi’?”

Ezra visibly lit up at the chance to expound upon one of his favorite dishes. “Well, at its simplest, sushi is steamed white rice and raw fish rolled up with dehydrated seaweed. There are _so_ many different combinations that one can never get bored!”

Crowley’s expression was unreadable, but he seemed to be contemplating something. His amber eyes glowed faintly in the dark, and Ezra could remember reading that snakes with slitted pupils tended to be ambush predators who stalked their prey in the dark of the night. Thinner pupils allowed them to regulate the amount of light entering their retinas to avoid being blinded by sudden changes in brightness.

Despite this knowledge, Ezra wasn’t afraid. He may have been earlier, but there had been several times where Crowley could have easily killed him, but didn’t, regardless of his desire for a mate. 

No, much to his own shock, Ezra felt completely safe in the arms and coils of this half-snake, half-man.

“Angel alright?” Crowley asked.

_Am I?_

_…_

_Yes._

Ezra re-positioned himself to where he was now fully facing Crowley, straddling his lap. “I’m quite alright, dear. Just lost in thought is all.”

“Good,” Crowley nuzzled his face against the column of Ezra’s throat. “Want angel happy.”

There came the most peculiar fluttering in Ezra’s chest (just slightly left of his sternum) at Crowley’s admission. He found himself quite suddenly possessed of the impulsive desire to kiss his new friend again.

He knew it was a reckless want, as he didn’t want to give the naga any false hope that his courtship attempts would be accepted. After all, Ezra was still planning on leaving the island soon.

_Then again… I don’t want him to think I’m not interested, because then he might chase me off and I’d_ really _rather not go back to trying to survive on my own._

_And, well, I_ **_should_ ** _thank him for all the times he’s helped me today._

_What’s one little kiss going to hurt?_

That was what Ezra told himself as he slid a hand behind Crowley’s neck to guide the other’s head down. Their mouths met in a kiss that was _much_ more tender than the first. This time Crowley took the initiative to tilt his head for a better angle. 

_He’s certainly a fast learner. I wonder if…_

Instead of keeping the kiss chaste, Ezra coaxed Crowley’s mouth open with his own and then softly closed it again. The naga made a noise of surprise and delight that Ezra took to mean he was doing a good job.

The human detached their lips with a quiet little smacking sound. Crowley whined as if he had been denied his favorite treat and chased after some more kisses, but Ezra held him back with a palm over his heart. “Oh no you don’t, you foul fiend! You only get the one for tonight.”

Crowley growled in playful frustration before crossing his arms with a huff. Ezra laughed at the other’s pantomimed outrage. In retaliation, the tip of the naga’s tail popped out from under the water to splash Ezra’s face, who sputtered in indignation.

The two of them glared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into raucous laughter. Their shared mirth echoed long into the night until Ezra was forced to catch his breath.

“Alright, my dear, I think I’m feeling well enough to sleep through the rest of the night,” he chuckled while wiping away a tear.

“You sure? Can sleep here. Will protect,”

“No, I’m certain. I’d like to go back to our nest,”

At the mention of “our nest”, Crowley’s eyes and smile were delighted. By this point Ezra had gotten rather used to being carried around, and didn’t flinch or fuss when he was lifted out of the water.

No, he simply burrowed deeper into his friend’s arms and allowed himself to be taken back to what was rapidly starting to become his new sanctuary.

***~*~*~*~***

1Nicknamed after a _disasterous_ nativity play last year wherein Gabriel was supposed to have been lowered slowly onto the stage for the Annunciation bit but was instead dropped like a sack of potatoes. He had landed hard on his knee and swore so colorfully that it’s rumored the children that were in attendance still repeat it to this day.[return to text]


	3. Harvest Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically just Ezra and Crowley accidentally pressing each other's kink-buttons (okay MAYBE not-so accidentally)

_It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been asleep when you’re in a cave._

This was Ezra’s first thought as he groggily rejoined the waking world. Without fully opening his eyes, he gave a testing stretch of his injured leg. It still hurt, and the burning had returned slightly, but he could tell he had some time before it truly flared up again.

He rolled from his side onto his back and finally opened his eyes.

Crowley was hovering over him, both arms bracketing in the human below him. The naga’s brow was furrowed up in the middle, with the corners of his mouth downturned. 

Ezra, to his credit, didn’t flinch or scream at suddenly finding himself being watched, though he _did_ utter a tiny squeak of surprise.

“O-oh. Good morning, Crowley. Is everything alright?” Ezra’s gentle voice released the tension in the naga’s shoulders.

“Worried. You slept long. Sun is high,” he mumbled.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry to have frightened you. I was just very tired is all,” the blonde reassured, then reached up to caress the face directly above his own.

The sudden rumbling of his stomach sounded deafening in the stillness of their nest and Ezra tittered with embarrassment. Crowley, however, looked excited and reached over to grab some kind of green bundle from the other side of the cushion pile.

Ezra instinctively held out his hands and the naga deposited the lump into Ezra’s waiting grasp.

The human wasn’t _quite_ sure what he was looking at.

It appeared to be an intact sheaf of seaweed that had been left out to bake in the sun and then wrapped around a _raw, still slightly wriggling, fish._

“What… what is this?” Ezra asked.

Crowley spread his arms wide, as if giving a presentation. “Sushi!”

Ezra’s lower lip quivered.

Crowley had _remembered_ him expressing sadness at not being able to enjoy one of his favorite foods. The naga had also _paid attention_ to Ezra’s ramblings about how to make it, then, apparently while the human was still asleep, snuck out of the nest to gather what ingredients he could to prepare it for his chosen mate.

It was so… so _touching!_

Unfortunately, Ezra couldn’t just sit there and bite into a whole raw fish. At least, not without getting a mouthful of bones and a terrible case of the runs. Crowley’s gesture was thoughtful, but ultimately pointless. He couldn’t just _say_ that, though! 

Crowley would be so disappointed that he had failed to make him happy, and Ezra couldn’t abide the thought of hurting the redhead’s feelings. 

But maybe he could…

Ezra unwrapped the bundle and held out the limp fish to Crowley.

“Thank you for the lovely sushi, dear. How about we share it?” he asked, and pressed the fish into the naga’s hand.

Ezra, to demonstrate, then took a nibble out of “his half” of the sushi: the seaweed. He was prepared for a slimy, spongy texture, but it was actually fairly crispy with an earthy taste perfectly complemented by the sea-salt clinging to its surface.

He looked up to see if Crowley was eating and almost regretted doing so.

Snakes swallowed their prey whole, humans chewed their food, and Crowley… Crowley was doing some weird combination of the two.

The naga had brought the fish to his mouth and proceeded to crunch down on its spine. He didn’t tear off any chunks, but kept gnawing at it like he was trying to tenderize the meat with his teeth. Then, when the fish was no longer recognizable as a once-living creature (more of a paste, really), Crowley tipped his head back to swallow the entire mess in one gulp.

Ezra was suddenly very, _very_ thankful that Crowley had chosen him as a mate rather than prey.

“Thanks, angel,” the naga grinned through blood-stained teeth matted with scales.

Ezra looked away and finished eating his seaweed.

“Think nothing of it, Crowley,”

***~*~*~*~***

When the burning pain from his leg wound returned, Ezra asked Crowley to carry him back to the beach for another soak in the ocean before it got any worse.

Half-submerged in the water, seated on his friend’s lap once more, Ezra turned his leg over to stare down at it through the crystalline water.

“It looks like it’s getting better. I’ll probably be able to walk either today or tomorrow,” he remarked happily.

Crowley just rumbled from somewhere in his chest and pulled Ezra back against him.

“Shame. Like carrying you,”

Ezra giggled.

“Well, in that case, you can carry me whenever you want. Just let me walk _some_ of the time, you silly serpent,”

“Deal,”

Like the night previously, Ezra squirmed around so that he was facing Crowley and, as a consequence, the shore. He caught sight of his old clothes bleached from the sun and half-buried in the sand. He sighed and rested his cheek on Crowley’s shoulder.

“You okay, angel?” the naga asked. “Sad? Hurt?”

“No, my dear, I’m fine. I just _really_ need to find some way of washing what little clothing I have. I can’t be walking around as, er- _free_ as you do and I’d like to try and take care of them before they completely disintegrate. A freshwater spring with some soap would be preferable, but I suppose I could make do with seawater and a rock…”

“Soap and water? Know where those are,”

“Wait, really? How do you have _soap_ all the way out here?!” Ezra exclaimed.

Crowley just shrugged. “Crates wash up. Scavenge them. Lots of things inside.”

“Where do you keep them?”

“In the nest. Further in. Looooots of things,”

Ezra couldn’t believe his luck. If Crowley was telling the truth, and not exaggerating or miscounting, then there could be something in there he could use to contact help. A phone would be less than useless, but perhaps a long-distance battery-powered radio? Maybe even signal flares! It was a longshot, but one Ezra was willing to take.

He reached up and tugged on a lock of scarlet hair to catch his friend’s attention. A full-bodied shiver ran throughout the entire length of Crowley’s body down to the tip of his tail accompanied by a faint, breathless moan.

Ezra decided he would address that later.

“Can you show me, dear? It’d make me _very happy,”_

Admittedly, he was probably leaning a _bit_ too heavily on Crowley’s desire to please him, but the naga didn’t seem to be complaining. The redhead just blinked once (he really didn’t do much of that) then nodded, his lips slightly parted and eyes half-lidded.

“Y-yeah, angel,” the naga murmured.

When Ezra was picked up, he could see a rosy flush creeping along Crowley’s torso. 

The larger being paused to wrap his tail around Ezra’s old clothes pile, then towed it behind him as they made their way back to the nest.

***~*~*~*~***

Gabriel was hunched over the desk in his study, face buried in his arms, when he heard the doorbell ring. Hope _and_ trepidation arose within him in equal measure. It had been 65 hours since Ezra went missing, just under three days, and the Coast Guard had yet to find any sign of him. On the one hand, if he hadn’t been found _at all,_ it meant he hadn’t been found _dead._ No news was good news after all, or so Gabriel kept reminding himself. 

On the other, Ezra could just as likely have drowned and his corpse sank to the bottom of the ocean.

_But he had a life jacket on. He wouldn’t just **sink.**_

A second ringing of the doorbell compelled Gabriel to move. He was praying that it was the Coast Guard coming to deliver good news (and _not_ standing there with their hats in their hands and an apologetic expression), but it was unlikely. They would call instead.

Gabriel hurried to the door and threw it open. 

Anathema was standing on the stoop with a tinfoil-covered plate in her hands. She didn’t give Gabriel a chance to ask her why she was there before thrusting the plate into his hands and stepping over the threshold.

“I brought you something to eat ‘cause I’m worried about you, Gabe. I’ve tried calling you all day and-” her eyes roamed over his rumpled appearance. “-and you’re still wearing the same clothes from the party! Have you even _slept?!”_

Gabriel put the plate on the coffee table and dragged his hands down his face. “I _can’t_ sleep, Anathema. What if the Coast Guard calls? Or Ezra?”

“Then they’ll take Ezra to a hospital and _call back,”_ was Anathema’s frustrated answer.

Her hands were folded on her hips, but despite the intimidating aura she was trying to give off, Gabriel could tell that she herself was just barely keeping it together. She hadn’t bothered putting her long, dark hair up in her usual half-bun, and her eyes were marked with visible stress lines.

Gabriel staggered over to the sofa and dropped heavily into it. He bent double at the waist to grip the sides of his head.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered hoarsely. “If I hadn’t thrown that _stupid_ party…”

“No!” Anathema snapped. “I will _not_ have you blaming yourself for Ezra’s disappearance. If you _insist_ on doing so, however, then I deserve at least half of it. I could have escorted Ezra to the restroom myself or even gone to find him when he didn’t come back for more than five minutes! If _you’re_ at fault, then _I’m_ at fault!”

Gabriel’s head jerked up. 

“Anathema, _no!_ That’s- you can’t blame yourself for not taking him to the bathroom like a toddler! That’s… that’s _ridiculous!”_ he exclaimed, rising to stand in front of her.

“Yes! _See?!_ It’d be _stupid_ for me to blame myself, just like to would stupid for you to blame _yourself,”_ the occultist expounded.

She heaved a great sigh when it didn’t seem like Gabriel believed her, then picked up the plate to bring to the kitchen. “I’m going to stay with you until tomorrow. You need some sleep, so I’ll stay up tonight to keep an eye on your phone. I promise to wake you if the Coast Guard calls.”

Her authoritative tone left no room for argument. Neither Gabriel nor Ezra had ever been good at defying her, anyway. The younger of the Fell brothers returned to his seat on the couch. He didn’t need to thank Anathema for her help, she already knew how grateful he was.

***~*~*~*~***

“Good _Lord,_ Crowley, how long have you been salvaging these things?!”

Further in the naga’s cave, past the small room that housed their nest, was a _much_ larger one seemingly dedicated to nothing but storing pillaged boxes, crates, and whatever other containers washed up on the island.

Chests and cartons were stacked as tall as five high, with many others teetering precariously. A number of them had been smashed open to get at the goodies within. This was, presumably, where Crowley had found all the bedding for their nest. The naga adjusted how he held Ezra, then started counting on his fingers to calculate how many years he had been gathering miscellaneous flotsam and jetsam.

When he ran out of fingers he just shrugged and replied, “Long time.”

“Yes… I can see that…”

Ezra’s eyes roamed over the chaos. It was _almost_ as cluttered as his flat back home. He didn’t know where to start first!

He spotted a crate labelled “Oaxu Electronics” at the base of a pyramid of barrels and asked Crowley to sit him down beside it. The nails keeping the lid shut had mostly rusted away so Ezra was able to work his fingers under the latch and wrench the lid off.

In doing so, however, he jostled the stack of barrels. It wobbled unevenly and then the topmost one, larger than Ezra’s entire torso, pitched over to drop on top of him. 

The human shrieked and covered his head, but the skull-crushing blow never came. Crowley’s hand had shot out and caught the barrel in his palm like it weighed nothing more than a basketball. The thing had to have been at least 25 kilos, but the naga’s arm didn’t so much as strain beneath the burden.

Ezra gaped open-mouthed as Crowley tossed the barrel from one hand to another and then placed it down somewhere out of the way.

_Oh good Heavens, that **strength!**_

“You staring,”

Crowley’s smirk was both teasing and unbearably smug. Ezra’s face turned almost as red as the other man’s hair.

“Yes, well, I shan’t lie to you. Your strength is quite, er, _impressive,”_ the blonde murmured and cast his eyes down to hide the burning of his cheeks.

Ezra startled as a hand slammed against the Oaxu crate, caging him against it. Crowley lowered himself down until he was eye-level with Ezra, face inches away.

“Saved angel again,” he purred. “Kiss for reward, maybe?”

Ezra slumped down against the crate until he was almost completely lying on his back on the ground. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears and it wasn’t from fear.

 _Definitely not fear,_ he thought somewhat frantically.

He couldn’t deny facts anymore. There was certainly somewhat of a physical attraction towards Crowley simmering along with the burgeoning affection he had for his mystical friend. It didn’t hurt that the naga was pleasant to look at; all sharp angles and sharper gazes. 

Crowley was a study in contrasts. 

He was dangerous, with a powerful tail that could no doubt crush a man in its coils and fangs strong enough to tear through flesh. His physical toughness was matched only by his tenacity as reflected in his pursuit of Ezra and will to thrive. How Crowley hadn’t gone mad from isolation was anyone’s guess.

_Perhaps he_ _**is** mad to want me of all people… _

However, beneath the power and the monstrous appearance, there was a kind, gentle soul more beautiful than any human Ezra had met before. Crowley was very sweet, treating Ezra like a treasure to be valued and protected; to be _loved._

Ezra wasn’t quite sure if Crowley, being what he was, was even _capable_ of love. Did he even _know_ what it was? Did he feel it and just not have a word for it?

Why was Ezra even asking himself these questions? It didn’t matter. Ezra would hopefully be gone soon and then he could put this whole “castawayed with an amorous snake monster” thing behind him.

_In that case I may as well just give him that reward he wants, then._

_Yeah, you keep telling yourself that’s why you’re kissing him,_ snarked a voice that sounded _suspiciously_ like Anathema’s whenever she called him out on his nonsense. _I’m sure it has_ _**nothing** to do with those _ _**strong** arms or those _ _**gorgeous** eyes… _

“That’s quite enough out of you!”

“Angel?”

_Oh goodness! Did I say that last part out loud?_

Ezra entwined his hands together behind Crowley’s head. “It’s nothing, my dear. I’m just being silly.”

Crowley visibly relaxed and Ezra pulled him down until he was practically on top of him. “Now what was that about a reward?”

The span between his question and their kiss was less than a second. Crowley copied what Ezra had done last night and moved their lips in a dance that anyone would consider to be sensual, even without the introduction of tongue.

_Oh thank Heavens his breath doesn’t smell like raw fish and blood!_

Without him consciously aware of doing so, Ezra’s knees pulled up slightly to cradle the other’s hips between them. 

Crowley, ever the snakey gentleman, broke the kiss.

He had only been rewarded _one,_ after all.

“I…” Ezra’s eyes explored the soft lines of his friend’s face. “...I didn’t ‘thank’ you for the sushi earlier, did I?”

Crowley only seemed mildly surprised. “No. Did not,” he murmured and leaned back in for his second reward.

Ezra’s hands were no longer holding onto each other, but were now wound loosely through thick tresses of imperial red hair that were surprisingly silky. Ezra gave a quick pull of them, just a bit harder than he had earlier, and eagerly swallowed up the ensuing groan from Crowley.

The blonde began to wonder how long he’d be able to keep pretending to trade favors for kisses before he dropped the pretense entirely to just give them freely.

_‘Give them freely’?! Have you lost your mind?! You need to get_ **_home_** , _not waste your time snogging wild snake-men!_

For once, Ezra was in agreement with his internal monologue. He _couldn’t_ allow himself to get distracted!

 _Or attached,_ Imaginary-Anathema’s voice pointed out.

Ezra freed his hands to push against Crowley’s chest. The naga lifted himself away, but not without a half-hearted grumble of protest.

Ezra pushed himself back up into a seated position with a, “That was very lovely, my dear, but I’d like to spend some time looking through these crates.”

“Anything for you, angel,” Crowley managed to say through the pleasant haze of oxytocin swirling in his brain.

***~*~*~*~***

After digging through the crate of Oaxu Electronics and sifting through the graphics cards, wireless mouses, and lengths of various cables within, Ezra was no closer to finding the oft-dreamt-of radio. He stared into the empty crate in defeat.

He was silent, but a fierce internal battle was raging. There were still _plenty_ of other containers; any one of them could contain a radio. Unfortunately, it would take _weeks_ to sort through them all; weeks that Ezra didn’t _have._ He needed to find a radio _yesterday!_

His turmoil, however, had nothing to do with the lack of radio and _everything_ to do with the naga curled around both him and the crate, using his tail as a pillow while he snoozed. Ezra considered asking Crowley to help him find a radio. He doubted the naga understood what a radio was, much less what it was used for, but he wasn’t quite comfortable with taking that risk. He didn’t want Crowley finding out what he was planning, but he _also_ didn’t want to waste his time on an arduous task if the redhead could simply point a finger and say, “It’s in there.”

In the end, laziness won out.

Ezra lightly tapped on his sleeping friend’s face with a whisper of, “Crowley, dear, wake up.”

Crowley’s eyes opened and, not for the first time, Ezra was struck by the luminous colour of them. The naga’s slitted pupils dilated, then contracted as they adjusted to the glow of the cave fungus.

“Hmmm…” Crowley stretched his arms above his head (Ezra _did not_ stare at the way the muscles beneath his skin flexed) with a languid purr. “Angel need something?”

“Yes, my dear. You wouldn’t happen to have a radio amongst your treasures, would you?”

Crowley cocked his head like he always did when confused. “What is ‘radio’?”

_Thank goodness. He doesn’t know what it is. I can work with this._

“Well, a radio is a small metal box shaped like a rectangle,” Ezra traced the shape of it in the air. “It has a little stick at the top called an ‘antenna’ and people use them to, uh, listen to music.”

Crowley perked up at the mention of “music”.

“Yes! Music! For courtship! Singing and dancing too! Angel sing?”

“Not professionally, I’m afraid. Though, I do enjoy a good tune in the shower as well as a rowdy pub ballad with friends,”

Crowley dragged his tail forward until it was piled in front of himself and he could prop his elbows and head on it. “Sing for Crowley?”

Ezra chuckled nervously. He hadn’t performed for anyone since that _awful_ Nativity play a year ago,[1] but Crowley’s expression was just so _earnest_ . He truly _did_ want to hear Ezra serenade him.

Just as he did with the kissing, Ezra asked himself what the harm would be. He took a deep breath, then sang the first tune that came to mind.

_“But there’s a full moon risin’._

_Let's go dancin’ in the light._

_We know where the music’s playin’._

_Let’s go out and feel the night._

_Because I’m still in love with you,_

_I wanna see you dance again,_

_Because I’m still in love with you,_

_On this Harvest Moon._

_When we were strangers,_

_I watched you from afar._

_When we were lovers,_

_I loved you with all my heart.”_

Gabriel had been the one to first show him the song and, although Ezra wasn’t much of a fan of contemporary American[2] music, the lyrics had been so wistful and the instrumentals so full of yearning for something lost that Ezra found himself enraptured.

Crowley seemed to be feeling the same way, judging by how his face had gone slack with wonder. His love-struck gaze was so unrepentantly vulnerable that Ezra stumbled over the next verse and his impromptu show ended.

“T-there you have it,” Ezra stammered, fiddling with the hem of his boxer shorts. “Now it’s your turn. Tit for tat, as it were.”

“Whatever you want, angel,” Crowley repeated, voice sounding far away.

Crowley’s song had no words, but the tune was beautiful, almost otherworldly. It reverberated off the cavern walls and sounded to Ezra like it was coming from everywhere at once. Crowley’s voice was low, but powerful in a way that the blonde hadn’t known he’d enjoy until that very moment.

It started airy to sweep delicately up half an octave where it hovered steadily in that range before sloping down into a deep vibrato. From there, the notes faded to silence after one more miniscule upward climb on the scale.

Ezra lifted a trembling hand to his mouth. 

“Oh, my _dear._ You’re… _beautiful,”_

Crowley made a “hrrrngh” noise, his his face in his tail, and shook his head.

“ _Not._ _You_ beautiful. _Angel_ beautiful,”

Ezra scoffed and scooted on his rear to sit in front of Crowley and pet his scales.

“ _Don’t_ discount yourself,” he lectured, bristling at his friend’s lack of self-worth “Your voice is _stunning_ and you’re beautiful inside _and_ out. Why just look at you! Such exquisite hair, and a very handsome tail. Your scales are so smooth!” He continued his caressing, fingertips dancing across the iridescent tail, heedless of the naga’s quick, shallow breathing. “And… I’ve never _seen_ such… _magnificent_ eyes.”

The last thread of Crowley’s fragile control snapped.

He surged across the barrier of his tail to grip Ezra by his upper arms and haul him up for a desperate kiss. The human “eeped” in surprise but went without a complaint.

Ezra’s hands came around Crowley’s back to dig his nails into powerful shoulder blades.

“Mmph… _angel_ …” the naga gasped into Ezra’s open mouth.

“I’ve got you, dear,”

The blonde detached his lips to mouth gently at the pulse point on his friend’s throat, disregarding the little voice in his own head screaming at him to _stop, stop you fool!_

“Will find radio for you,” Crowley panted. “More music and singing and dancing for Courtship!”

_Right. Yes. Radio. Escape. Jolly good!_

_…_

_It can wait a bit, surely?_

“Oh that silly thing isn’t going anywhere. In fact, _I’m_ more interested in the fact that you told me there was _soap_ somewhere in one of these boxes,” Ezra said, waving off all thoughts of radios for the time being.

“Yes! Crowley uses it!” the naga remarked, golden eyes regarding the heaps of boxes around them and trying to remember where he left the one that contained the supplies in question. “Think it… there!”

Crowley stretched his tail out to curl it around a little pallet stacked high with small, white boxes labelled, “Tranquil Bay Hotel”. He pulled the pallet forward until it was close enough for Ezra to take a box and pop it open.

Inside was an array of scallop-shell-shaped soaps in a rainbow of colors, each one half the size of Ezra’s fist. Crowley reached into the box and picked up an orange-colored one.

“This _best_ one,” the naga gestured with it.

Ezra gave it a delighted sniff. “Oh! Sandalwood! _Excellent_ taste, my dear!”

The blonde probed through the hotel soap box until he produced a soft pink one. 

“I personally prefer floral scents,”

Crowley scrunched up his nose in distaste.

“Quit looking at me like I just kicked a puppy. They really aren’t _that_ bad, look,” Ezra took the miniature bar of soap and swiped it on the inside of his wrist. He then held his arm out under the naga’s nose.

Crowley took the provided hand and held it to his face.

“Like smell on _you,”_ he rumbled and pressed a delicate kiss to the inner wrist. “But want _my_ smell on you.”

“Like the sandalwood or…?”

Crowley answered by rubbing his cheek against Ezra’s arm and passing it under his chin. His forked tongue darted out to flutter across the human’s skin, then hummed at what he scented, pleased.

Ezra flushed at the show of possessiveness and the accompanying curl of heat that coiled low in his belly.

“T-that’s, um, w-w-we- I mean _I_ \- wecandoboth!” he stumbled.

Crowley parted his lips enough to delicately scrape a fang across the pale flesh of the human’s wrist, leaving a thin red line that didn’t break the skin. He lifted his burning eyes.

“Deal,”

Ezra’s thoughts were tumbling into a well churning with something he wasn’t ready to name. He pulled his hand back to cradle it against his chest, unknowingly directly over his heart.

“Suppose you could show me that freshwater source you mentioned?” came his low question.

***~*~*~*~***

1Ezra, playing Joseph, had a little musical number to perform about his repeated failed attempts to find an Inn room for his pregnant wife. Unfortunately, halfway through, the microphone had died. Ezra didn't have a powerful voice by ANY stretch of the imagination, so he was forced to practically _shout_ the song directly into the audience. The children in the front row had wept and clung to their mothers, asking why "Joseph" was angry with them.[return to text]

2Miles away, Gabriel was suddenly possessed by the inexplicable urge to shout, "Neil Young is _Canadian_ , Ezra!"[return to text]


	4. On the Ability to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra continues grappling with his burgeoning feelings towards Crowley and makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you pay close enough attention, you can see Crowley start using bigger words and longer sentences via Linguistic Immersion. It's a fun little thing you can re-read over previous chapters to witness and also keep an eye on in oncoming ones.

The “freshwater spring” that Crowley had been referring to was quite different than Ezra had pictured. When the redhead brought him further into the jungle to show him, he parted a curtain of vines with a proud, “Can I get a wahoo?”

They were standing at the base of a wide cliff-face where a thunderous waterfall poured over the edge seven stories up. The spray from it cast rainbows across the glistening outcroppings halfway down that bisected the waterfall into two separate streams which poured into a large, deep rockpool at the bottom.

“You can drink and wash here!” Crowley boasted.

Ezra lifted his fist with a tiny, “Wahoo!” and the naga laughed in response.

“Let me down, dear, I want to see if I can walk the rest of the way myself,” Ezra said.

“You sure? I can still carry you,”

“I’m fine, dear. Let me try,”

It was with a noticeable measure of reluctance that Crowley did so. His hovered uncertainly around Ezra, ready to snatch him back up at a moment’s notice should the human show so much as a _hint_ of pain. 

When Ezra put his weight on the injured leg, it wobbled a bit, but otherwise held steady. 

“This is _much_ better!” was his pleased statement.

“Glad angel feels better,” Crowley murmured.

The naga _did_ look happy, but he also seemed somewhat disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to hold Ezra close anymore. Ezra looked up at him, at the scant few yards from where they stood to the rockpool, then back up at Crowley again.

With a mental shrug, he gave a phony cry and stumbled forward, directly into his friend’s open arms.

“Angel?”

“Oh, goodness me! Seems I’m not quite as recovered as I thought I was. Would you be a dear and help me over to the water?” Ezra moued with a fluttering of eyelashes.

Crowley rolled his serpentine eyes, fully aware of the blonde’s silly little attempt at cheering him up.

He didn’t let go, however.

The two of them approached the water whereupon Ezra was set down for real this time. Crowley held out the bundle of old clothing and soap clutched in his tail. “Thank you very much, dear. I’m going to get out of these old underthings and give everything a good scrub,” Ezra said.

There was a moment of silence between him and Crowley.

Then another.

“Well? Go on then, shoo. Let me have some privacy,” was the smaller of the two’s request.

“Why?”

“‘Why’?! You can’t expect me to just- just- _disrobe_ in front of you!” the blonde exclaimed, thoroughly scandalized.

It was _one_ thing to be walking around in his briefs (in Ezra’s mind, doing so was no different than walking around in swim shorts at the beach and this _was_ an extenuating circumstance), it was _another_ to strip completely naked in plain sight of a large humanoid snake with ardent inclinations towards him.

Crowley, however, didn’t appear to understand that. Granted, the naga never wore any clothes himself, but _surely_ he could understand Ezra’s desire for privacy, if nothing else?

Apparently not, as Crowley hadn’t yet picked up the waves of embarrassment Ezra was trying to put out.

In a way, though, the redhead’s laissez-faire attitude towards nudity was refreshing. Crowley didn’t slither around the island without clothes because he was trying to be sensual or tempting, but simply because it felt _right_ to him. He hadn’t once commented on Ezra’s relative state of undress either. To him, nudity was simply a state of being; not a precursor to anything else or something to be embarrassed by.

So Ezra supposed he shouldn’t be bothered by it either.

Not giving himself the chance to second-guess himself, Ezra shucked off his briefs in one quick movement. 

Crowley didn’t do anything. He simply bent over to gather up the smaller man’s old clothes and pass them to him.

“Here, angel,” he said.

Ezra felt blindsided. Crowley had spent the last two nights trying his hardest to woo him into a romantic and sexual relationship (insomuch as one could reasonably _be_ in a relationship with a monster from legend), but open seeing the object of his desires _stark naked,_ nothing had come of it.

There’d been no hungry gazes, no overwhelming desire to take and _claim,_ not even so much as a cheeky pinch on his rear. Crowley had just curled up on his tail to stand guard.

Ezra wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“I’ll start washing these. Is there a place I can hang them out to dry?” he asked, trying to keep the small twinge of defeat out of his voice.

As he bent over to dump the clothes into the spring, he heard something from behind him. It was a faint, barely perceptible noise that sounded like, “ngk”.

Ezra froze.

_Was that…?_

He peeked over his shoulder. Crowley’s face was a mask of careful nonchalance and his eyes were focused on the ground where he was lazily tracing circles in the dirt. 

The serpent’s indifference would have been _almost_ believable were it not for the slight blush dusted across his cheeks. The corner of Ezra’s mouth twitched in a repressed smirk.

Calling on all his skills of being a bit of a bastard, he stood up and stretched his arms over his head, taking extra care to arch his back at the same time he released a dainty, breathless moan.

“Hnnn…” Crowley whimpered.

_Gotcha._

Ezra spun around so fast that Crowley wasn’t able to look away in time. The redhead looked _very much_ like he had just been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“Ah- uhm- angel- that-”

Ezra sidled over to place the flat of his palms atop his friend’s scaled tail.

“Crowley, my dear...” he pouted. “Do you think I’m too soft?”

The naga’s mouth went flat and his eyebrows creased.

“Huh?”

Ezra made a noncommittal noise and turned to the side. He ran his hands over his own shoulders, down the length of his torso, over his stomach, and finally came around to rest just above the generous swell of his arse. He noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Crowley’s eyes followed the path of his hands like a hawk watching a hare.

“I just worry sometimes that I’m a little too… fluffy to be seen as attractive to others. When we were boys, my younger brother Gabriel used to tease me about it mercilessly,” Ezra sighed, sounding all the world like it was a genuine, innocent inquiry.

“N-no! Soft is not bad! Soft is good! Soft is very…” Crowley inhaled shakily. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and he was now staring unabashedly at where Ezra’s hands currently rested. _“...very_ good.”

Ezra did a happy little wiggle. “Thank you, my dear. I’m glad I can count on you to give me your honest opinion.”

He pivoted to return to the rockpool, hips sashaying the entire way. Crowley’s brain took a moment to reboot, but when it did, he yelled out, “Hey! You are teasing me!”

“Am I now? That doesn’t seem _at all_ like me,” Ezra smirked insolently with a coy glance over his shoulder. “Are you sure you weren’t just misreading the-” His words were cut off as he found himself lifted up. “Crowley, what are you-”

Then he was soaring through the air to plunge face-first into the spring. It was a testament to how deep it was that Ezra didn’t even hit the bottom from his impromptu cannon-ball. 

Crowley’s mocking laughter was what greeted him upon resurfacing.

“‘Tit for tat’, angel!” the naga howled.

Ezra glared at him through sodden curls before taking a deep breath and diving under again. When Crowley finished wiping away his tears of mirth, the blonde was nowhere to be seen.

“Angel?” He crawled over on his belly to peer into the water. “Angel?”

Ezra surged up through the water and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck. “Surprise!” Then he yanked him down.

Crowley was heavy, but Ezra had a fair amount of strength himself, and was able to drag his friend under the water before the other could so much as flinch. The naga popped back up for air, hissing angrily.

“You will regret that,”

“Oh no you don’t! _Back,_ fiend!”

It quickly devolved into a game of keep-away, with Ezra paddling backwards just out of the reach of Crowley’s grasping hands and Crowley, in turn, undulating his tail to chase after him. Their shared laughter bounced off the surrounding cliff face, echoing back the sounds of joy. Ezra’s giggling was swiftly replaced by a yelp when he backed up too far and ended up drenched by the frigid waterfall. The force of it nearly bent him double and he lurched forward to get away from it, driving himself straight up against Crowley’s muscular chest.

“Ha! Caught you!”

Crowley wasted no time in driving his fingers under Ezra’s ribs and tickling him mercilessly.

“S-stop! Crowley! D-don’t- don’t you _dare,_ you demon!” the blonde shrieked as he writhed.

The larger man was relentless. Ezra tried to squirm away, but that only drove him further backwards towards the waterfall again. “N-no, please! Have mercy!”

“No mercy for teasing angels!”

At the first touch of the chilly water on his shoulders, Ezra threw himself at Crowley to get away; he’d take fiendish tickles over the cold _any day._ The naga met him halfway to support Ezra’s weight with hands on the backs of his thighs as his arms crossed behind Crowley’s neck and his legs wrapped around a snakeish waist before hooking together at the ankles. 

“I submit! I submit!”

The body he clung to went abruptly stiff. Ezra didn’t notice and huffed, “You _win,_ you horrid thing. I shan’t tease you anymore. Now would you _kindly_ move away from the waterfall so I don’t die of hypothermia?”

“S-sure, angel,”

Crowley floated away from the source of Ezra’s discomfort. The human went slack with his cheek smushed against Crowley’s shoulder, thankful to be away from that _dreadful_ cold. The tanned skin beneath him was so pleasantly warm that Ezra pressed himself a smidge closer to leech off some of that precious heat.

He sighed. “This is nice. Mmh… _you_ feel nice.”

Crowley’s calloused palms kneaded at Ezra’s thighs. “You feel nice too, angel.”

All at once Ezra remembered where he was.

He wasn’t in some romantic grotto having a playful bit of fun with his lover.

He was on a _deserted island_ with a _giant snake monster who wanted to make him his mate_ and he had _no way_ of contacting his family to let them know he was still alive.

_Radio. Escape._ _**Home.** Have you forgotten “home” already, Ezra?! For goodness's sake get your act together! _

Ezra unlatched his legs from where they encircled Crowley’s hip and he moved away. In that moment he wanted nothing more than a little bit of time to himself to get his treacherous thoughts back on track.

“Crowley,” he began. “That sushi you made for me this morning was absolutely delightful, but I’m hungry for something a bit different. Do you think you could bring me a few of those coconuts from the beach?”

Crowley felt like there was something else bothering his chosen mate, but he chose not to comment on it.

“Sure, angel. Be back soon,”

He heaved his lengthy body out of the water and was soon weaving his way through the undergrowth.

Ezra waited until Crowley was out of sight, then sank down into the water until only his nose and eyes remained above it. He exhaled, watching the bubbles float to the surface and pop in front of his face.

He _needed_ to stay focused.

Crowley may be sweet and kind and funny and handsome and-

_Focus, Ezra!_

Yes! Focus! Right! 

Ezra leaned against the edge of the rock pool and smacked his forehead. What was _wrong_ with him? He mentally retraced his steps in an attempt to figure out just how he had ended up so distracted. 

_Alright, I met a snake-man who is determined to make me his mate for whatever reason; can’t imagine it has anything to do with how I look… but then again, he_ **_does_ ** _think I’m beautiful. He’s said so as much several times and he gains nothing by lying to me. He’s so much more_ **_handsome_ ** _than me, though! Why on earth would he want_ **_me?_**

_Why am I even allowing this “courtship” to continue?! Crowley’s made it perfectly clear that he’s not a violent being, so rejecting him poses no risk to my safety._

Ezra’s stomach twisted in a very unpleasant way. He could justify it to himself until he turned blue in the face, but he knew the truth. 

He was taking advantage of Crowley.

Ezra was aware that the redhead wasn’t entitled to a relationship with him; he was not a machine that Crowley could just put “Courtship Coins” into and receive a mate in return. No, the fault for that was his own. He kept teasing Crowley, baiting him on, keeping him _just_ out of arm’s reach but with a flirtatious little smirk and whispered words of consent that told the other man that his efforts would soon be reciprocated.

_I really am the worst…_

The kinder, _ethical_ thing to do would have been to be upfront about his feelings; to tell Crowley in no uncertain terms that Ezra _wasn’t_ planning to remain on the island to be his mate, no matter how hard the other tried to court him.

_But… then he’d be so **sad…**_

Faced with the reality of Crowley’s heartbreak at Ezra’s rejection, the blonde didn’t even bother worrying about how he’d survive on his own until rescue could arrive. Right then, _nothing_ mattered to him more than making sure Crowley was happy.

And it was _that_ realization that almost sent Ezra into a panicked spiral.

How on God’s Green Earth had Crowley’s continued happiness become such a vital part to Ezra that he considered survival _secondary_ ?! What about Gabriel and Anathema who were doubtless praying for his safe return? Didn’t _their_ happiness matter too?!

Ezra shouldn’t be feeling guilty about using Crowley _at all!_ He should seize onto the deception with both hands; _anything_ to get back to the people who _really_ loved him!

_But Crowley **does** love me!_

And there it was. The final thought that caused Ezra to put up his emotional and mental walls.

_Nope. Can’t be. Crowley isn’t human, therefore he can’t love. It’s just a desire to mate with me, nothing more. Therefore, I shouldn’t feel bad for taking advantage of him. He’s doing the same thing after all by trying to ply me with terrible sushi and provocative behavior._

Resolution re-doubled, Ezra spread his arms along the bank of the rock pool and let his eyes slip shut in relaxation. He was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Imaginary-Anathema’s voice calling him a hypocrite for engaging in the same “provocative behavior”.

Eventually, though, the voice faded away to nothing and Ezra allowed his mind to go blissfully blank for the first time since arriving on this hellish island.

The sun filtering through the trees warmed his skin so pleasantly that he started to imagine what he’d look like with a tan. Gabriel would probably lose his mind at the sight of it and Anathema would no doubt have quite a few choice remarks about how silly it made him look.

A tiny serpentine tongue flickered at his nose and Ezra scrunched his face up in annoyance.

He batted it away. “Oh for- leave me _alone,_ Crowley. I’m trying to unwind.”

The tongue continued it’s prodding and Ezra’s patience wavered.

“Crowley would you _please_ just-” he began as he opened his eyes.

It wasn’t Crowley.

A viper, just over a metre long and almost as thick as Ezra’s forearm was seated on the bank beside him with its head stretched out to stare directly at him. Dusty white scales interspersed with gold ones covered the length of its entire body.

It wiggled forward to tap the space between Ezra’s eyes with its snout and the human’s mouth ran dry. His breathing was shallow, frantic as the snake wiggled closer to wrap around his neck. Ezra wasn’t sure if it was a constrictor or venomous, but neither options were good.

“C-Cro…” he gasped when the animal’s hold tightened a fraction.

His hands twitched with the need to grab the snake and fling it away before it choked him, but that could just as easily end with him being fatally envenomed.

Ezra’s _best_ chance for survival would be to simply keep still and hope the terrifying thing lost interest. When it settled its broad, flat head on Ezra’s shoulder with no intention to move on, his willpower crumbled.

_“CROWLEY!!”_ he sobbed.

Crowley must have been on his way back because Ezra had barely taken three more frantic breaths after calling for help before the naga was bursting through the undergrowth.

“Angel! What is wrong? Are you hurt?”

_“Pleasepleaseplease_ get it off! Get it off!”

Crowley slithered around behind Ezra and gingerly lifted the viper off his shoulders. The thing immediately released its hold to curl around the bigger snake’s arm. Crowley lifted it to his face.

_“Bad Blanche,”_ he scolded. “Not nice to scare my angel.”

The snake - Blanche - somehow managed to look contrite. Her tongue flitted against Crowley’s cheek who gave a put-upon sigh. “Apologize to _angel_ not me.”

Ezra watched the entire exchange in stunned amazement. Crowley was _talking_ to Blanche and, wonder of wonders, she was _understanding_ and _responding._ Two pairs of serpentine eyes fell on him.

“Blanche says ‘sorry’,” Crowley explained. “Was supposed to watch over you while I was gone, but decided to play mean trick instead.”

Ezra was mollified by his friend’s statement that Blanche never planned on harming him, but he was still somewhat twitchy from the spike of fear-laced adrenaline. 

“Is… is she your pet?” he asked, scooting a little closer to get a better look at her.

Blanche hissed in displeasure and Crowley shook his head.

“No. Blanche is…” He snapped his fingers, trying to find the right word. “...like a sister!”

The golden snake nuzzled her snout on her “brother’s” face. Crowley rolled his eyes and pushed away the snakey hug with two fingers.

“Do not embarrass me in front of my angel,”

Blanche headbutted him instead.

“Yes, yes, I love Blanche too,”

Crowley pressed a quick fraternal peck to the tip of her snout and Ezra felt his world drop out beneath him.

Crowley was… was _cooing_ over his sister. He _loved_ her and had told her so without any trepidation or hesitation, like it was something he did often.

_Just like Gabriel and I._

Ezra swallowed a whine. He had been laboring under the now _obviously_ false impression that Crowley was incapable of love due to the fact that he wasn’t human. Watching him interact with Blanche, Ezra’s guilt at using him returned ten-fold.

Crowley might not have had human legs, eyes, or strength, but his _soul_ \- his _love_ \- was nothing but that. In a tiny, private corner of his heart that he wasn’t even aware of having, Ezra wondered what it would feel like to have the full force of that love directed towards him.

***~*~*~*~***

The sun had vanished beyond the Western horizon hours later, casting the jungle in a delicate orange hue. A yard or so away from the rockpool, Crowley, Ezra, and Blanche were sprawled out across a large, flat rock with Ezra’s clothes dangling from a branch nearby to dry overnight. Crowley was on his stomach, arms cushioning his head as he dozed atop the warm stone. Ezra lay on his back beside him close enough to brush shoulders, with Blanche curling most of her body atop the human’s chest and enjoying the steady rise and fall of it..

Ezra was idly stroking her scales with his left hand, while rubbing slow circles on Crowley’s back with his other. His mind had gone syrupy with lazy pleasure and he was considering taking a nap himself.

Next to him, Crowley stretched his gangly arms with a satisfying crackle of joints. His tail extended and accidentally knocked away the now-empty coconuts he had gathered for Ezra earlier. The hollow thunk of them rattling together caused Blanche to lift her head from her perch.

“Everything alright, dear?” the human asked.

“Yeah. Should get back to the nest. It is not always safe out here at night,”

Beyond Blanche (and that _horrid_ seagull), Ezra hadn’t really seen any other wild animals on the island. He had no doubt that they were _there_ of course, but it seemed that they avoided Crowley.

“Why? I’m sure you’re mightier than anything else on this island. What could possibly threaten _you?”_ Ezra asked with an upticked eyebrow.

Crowley preened at the praise and pushed himself up to flex his biceps.

“Yes. I _am_ strong. _Nothing_ can defeat me. But _you_ are not. I do not want you hurt,”

Ezra smiled and sat up. Blanche rolled off his chest with an undignified splat. The blonde paid no mind to her grumbling hiss and scooted closer to Crowley to press a hand against the naga’s chest.

“My brave, _handsome_ protector,” he demurred, eyes flitting down to a pair of slightly parted lips.

If Blanche could, she would have rolled her eyes.

“S-should… um… _nest…”_

“Quite right. I don’t need to be carried anymore, but would you allow me to hold onto your arm the rest of the walk back so I don’t fall?”

Crowley slid off the rock and held Ezra by the waist to help him down. The human eagerly took the offered arm and leaned fully against his red-headed friend.

“Goodnight, Blanche. Get back to den safe,” Crowley said, nodding towards the viper still atop the rock.

Blanche nodded _(how???)_ and slipped away into the undergrowth with nothing but a faint rasp of scales on grass.

“Your little sister is quite charming,” Ezra chuckled as the two of them began a romantic sunset stroll back to their shared nest, though in his case it was more of a slow limp.

“Not ‘little’. _Big_ sister,” Crowley corrected and patted the elbow linked through his.

_“Older_ sister? But… how?”

Vipers didn’t typically live longer than 15 years (at least by Ezra’s recollection) and Crowley himself looked older than that. Were he human, Ezra would place him in his late twenties to early thirties. There was no possible way for Blanche to be the older of the two, but considering all the other fantastical things he had witnessed in the past three days, a wild snake living 35+ years wasn’t too unbelievable.

“How old _is_ Blanche?” Ezra asked.

Crowley threw back his head with a sharp bark of laughter.

“Blanche is _ancient._ Is an old lady,”

“Well then, how old are _you?”_

Crowley flinched at the question and his fingers tightened unconsciously around Ezra’s elbow. They didn’t stop walking, but Crowley’s entire face had fallen in sadness. “I do not remember. I am old. _Too_ old.”

Ezra looked up at his friend and saw the naga’s eyes were glazed over and fixed ahead. He appeared to be very far away in unpleasant memories. For the first time, Ezra was starting to wonder what Crowley’s life before had been like. Those questions could wait, however. His serpent needed him.

Ezra placed his hand on Crowley’s face and turned it towards him.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, my dear. Please come back to me. Don’t go where I can’t follow,”

He softly kissed the corner of Crowley’s mouth. There was no teasing banter, no trading or bargaining as a reward for a favor, just a gentle show of tender affection to bring his dear friend back from wherever Ezra’s careless words had sent him.

Crowley blinked slowly, the fog clearing from his eyes.

“Sorry, angel,” he breathed.

“Don’t you _dare_ apologize, mister! I should have been more sensitive. I won’t pretend to understand why asking your age made you upset, but I promise not to do it again and you don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,”

Crowley had gone from lost to stunned so fast that it almost gave him whiplash. His eyes were wide in shocked gratitude.

“Angel…”

Ezra let go of his face and pressed himself closer against Crowley’s side. “Come along, my dear. You said we need to get back before nightfall and I intend to hold you to it. Last thing I need is to trip into a hole because it was too dark to see by.”

The rest of their walk continued in pleasant conversation. Ezra would ask Crowley things about Blanche and the naga took every chance he got to tell some silly story or other of how she failed to catch a seagull while hunting or got tangled in vines or once bit him so hard after an argument that his entire hand turned purple for a week.

Ezra listened to them all with a happy smile, interrupting every so often with a laugh or remark. 

_"How could I have ever doubted that you possessed the ability to love?"_ he thought to himself.

***~*~*~*~***

The first of the stars were blinking into existence under the milky twilight by the time they made it back to the cave. Ezra’s leg started twinging a bit, so Crowley had carried him the rest of the way through the tunnels into the nook that housed their nest.

Crowley lowered him down to the cushions and passed a blanket to him. “I have a surprise for you, angel. You will get it tomorrow.”

“Oh? How intriguing. Why can’t I have it tonight?” Ezra laughed, patting the pillows beside him.

“Because I said so,” Crowley laid down on his half of the pile, turned onto his side to look at his human.

Ezra huffed and rolled his eyes, but not at the thought of not getting his “surprise” early. “Dear, I’m not wearing anything and it’s chilly in here.” He lifted the blankets. “Please come here so I don’t freeze.”

Crowley licked his lips and nodded once. Without getting up again, he did an awkward sideways wiggle over to Ezra who was almost choking on silent giggles.

The blonde threw the blanket over both of their bodies and rested his forehead against Crowley’s defined chest with a sarcastic snort. _“So graceful,_ my dear. It’s a wonder you’re not a dancer with those _sensuous_ moves.”

The naga responded with a smirk, “You think I am ‘sensuous’, eh?”, and a roll of his hips against the human pressed to him.

Ezra gasped with a sudden _jolt_ of arousal that tore through him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation and burrowed his face into Crowley’s clavicle with a muffled whimper.

“Angel, are you okay?”

“T-tickety boo, d-dear, just…”

Something in Ezra’s voice must have given him away because Crowley suddenly stilled. Then, he gave another undulation of his hips, this time slow and careful. Ezra bit down on his bottom lip and keened loud enough to be heard, nails digging into the muscles of Crowley’s arms. He felt Crowley’s breath ghosting over the shell of his ear. It sent heat shivering down his spine to settle _much_ further south.

“Does… do you want me _too,_ angel?” Crowley's hands were looped under Ezra’s arms, clutching his back with a trembling intensity. He sounded like he was barely restraining himself from rutting against the softness of his chosen mate.

“I… I don’t…” Ezra panted. “I’m not…”

_I do. And I don’t know how I should feel about that._

The hands on his back pulled away and the blonde was bereft of their touch. Crowley was still draped along his front, but those same hands were now cupping his face instead. A flush of arousal was high on the naga’s cheeks, but his expression was tender. He pressed a gentle kiss to Ezra’s forehead like a benediction.

“It is okay, angel,” he said. “I will not force you. Do not feel bad or embarrassed.”

The flames beneath Ezra’s skin were cooling under the torrent that was Crowley’s compassion. In truth he _was_ embarrassed. Not because of his body’s reaction, but because of how _eager_ he’d been in the moment.

_For Heaven's sake, I’ve known him for less than_ **_three days!_**

He hadn’t even had hookups in _uni_ that went that fast! To his utter humiliation, Ezra had been perfectly willing to throw himself at his friend right then and there. Crowley, however, had interpreted his confliction as fear and hesitation, then reassured Ezra that nothing would happen without his consent, even if it wasn’t in those exact words.

To Crowley, anything less than an enthusiastic _yes_ was a hard _no._

Ezra sniffled and embraced his _wonderful_ serpent. Crowley’s gesture was unneeded, but welcomed nonetheless. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. So, _so much.”_

Crowley hugged him back.

“Anything for you, angel,” he whispered into downy curls.

The two of them stayed entwined through the rest of the night, even as they slipped down into sleep.


	5. The Storm Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra's rescue is hampered by an oncoming storm and Crowley introduces us to the rest of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: My description of the moment before the Hurricane arrives is based on my own experiences living on the coast and surviving Hurricane Rita, Ike, and Harvey. Ike and Harvey made the Top 10 list for costliest Atlantic Hurricanes in U.S. history, with Ike at #6 and Harvey tied for 1st place with Hurricane Katrina.

It was 10:52 a.m. on the fourth day of Ezra’s disappearance when Gabriel’s phone rang.

He was deep asleep on the couch and didn’t hear it go off, but Anathema, who true to her word hadn’t left Gabriel alone, did.

When it wasn’t immediately answered after the third ring, she threw herself out of the kitchen and almost dropped it before answering.

“Yes! Hello?” she practically shouted and shook Gabriel, who awoke with a jolt.

“This is Captain Carlos Medina of the Marine Corps Search and Rescue Division. May I speak to Gabriel Fell?”

Anathema pressed the speakerphone button just as Gabriel said, “Yes. This is he.”

“Mr. Fell I’m contacting you to inform you that there’s been a recent development in the search for your brother, Ezra,”

Anathema gasped sharply and Gabriel nearly swallowed his tongue in his haste to answer.

“What is it? Have you found him? Is he safe?” he managed to say.

“Negative, Mr. Fell. The search is still ongoing, though something has come up that I feel you should be made aware of,”

Anathema sobbed and Gabriel’s thoughts ran wild. What was going on? Captain Medina had said that Ezra hadn't been recovered, dear _or_ alive, so why was he calling? Had they found an empty life vest set adrift and were trying to inform them that Ezra’s chances of survival had dropped drastically? Did a fisherman pull up one of his nets and discover a scrap of Ezra’s bloodstained clothing inside, but no body? 

“W-what do I need to know?” Gabriel stammered weakly.

“Mr. Fell I’m not sure if you follow the Weather Reports, but a tropical storm has been developing southeast of the search area and is expected to develop into a Category 2 hurricane within the next two days. It’s angle of trajectory will have it passing directly over the search area by the time it fully develops,” Captain Medina went on to explain.

“What are you trying to tell me?!” Gabriel snapped.

“I’m telling you that our S&R officers will keep up the search for as long as we can before the hurricane hits. Right before it does, however, my men will have to pull out for their own safety. I’m sorry, Mr. Fell, but your brother’s odds of survival in that storm will be next to nothing.We will be calling off the search once it passes,”

Gabriel’s blood ran cold. Behind him, he could hear Anathema trying to stifle another sob.

“Y-you… you can’t…” the younger Fell brother whimpered. “... you can’t keep looking for just one more day after it’s over?”

“No, Mr. Fell. I’m sorry,”

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest further - _beg_ if he had to - when Anathema sprang forward to snatch the phone out of his hand.

“Wait a moment, Captain Medina. Did your boys happen to do a sweep of any islands or archipelagos?” she asked.

Captain Medina went silent on the other end of the line and the rustling of paper could be heard. He came back on and replied, “No. There weren’t any islands in the search area.”

Hope flared brightly in Anathema’s heart, chasing away some of the shadows that had grown large. 

“Captain, far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but on the route we took there was an island. I remember looking over the railing and seeing it in the distance. I know it wasn’t in the search zone, but do you think Ezra could have drifted _out_ of that zone and onto the island?”

Gabriel’s head jerked up from where he had been sitting on the couch with his face in his hands. The tentatively hopeful light in his eyes matched the one in Anathema’s chest. Captain Medina was quiet for a second, then made a soft noise of consideration.

“Would either of you happen to have the coordinates for the island, or the contact information for the Captain of the yacht you rented? The sooner you get either of those to me, the sooner my men can begin searching,”

Anathema jumped in place with a silent cry of triumph and Gabriel slumped over the back of the sofa.

“I’ll get those coordinates right away, Captain!” she said excitedly.

“Thank you very much, ma’am. I’ll be sure to contact either of you should we find Ezra in the meantime,”

With that, Medina ended the call. Gabriel was up and off the sofa to practically crush Anathema in a powerful embrace before she could even put the phone down.

“That was _genius,_ Witch! Thank you! _Thank you!_ Your quick thinking might have just saved Ezra’s life!” he rambled on, lifting the slender woman clean off the ground. “Thank God you’re the smart one out of the three of us.”

 _“And_ the pretty one, _and_ the funny one, _and_ the fun one, _and-_ ”

“Alright, alright, quit hamming it up before I drop you,”

Gabriel, of course, _didn’t_ drop her, but simply set her back down on the floor. Anathema couldn’t help but notice that that small nugget of hope already had her friend looking healthier than he’d ever been these past few days. 

She immediately made a break for the kitchen to grab her purse and pull out her phone.

“I’m gonna call Captain Newton and inform him of the Coast Guard’s plan. I’m sure he’ll help us!” she said.

While she did so, Gabriel sent up a desperate prayer to whatever deity would listen.

_**Please** let this work. Let him be there. Let him be safe. _

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra had awoken an hour earlier. He was still tangled in Crowley’s arms, only now legs and a tail had entered the equation. The tip of a black tail was looped around the ankle of the leg that Ezra hadn’t flung over his waist. The blonde’s left arm was propping up his head, while the right hung at his side, over Crowley’s arm which was encircling Ezra’s torso. The covers had been kicked off some time during the night, leaving the two of them bare to the world.

And Ezra didn’t mind.

Across from him, Crowley’s face was still slack with sleep. His fiery hair was fanned around his head like a very fizzy, messy halo. His cheek was squished against a pillow and his lips were parted just enough for his forked tongue to flit out every few breaths with a tiny “sss” sound.

_You have no right to look that adorable._

Ezra reached over with his free hand to touch a lock of hair. He let it flow like liquid rubies between his fingers.

“You are utterly magnificent, my dear,” he breathed into the space between them. “I’ve never met a person as captivating as you; scales, tail and all. You have such _kindness…”_

“‘M not kind…” came the sleepy response.

Ezra went to pull his hand away, thought better of it, then continued petting Crowley’s hair.

“When did you wake up, my dear?”

“Jusssst now. Felt you touch my hair,”

Ezra smiled at the lisp. It added to Crowley’s already overflowing charm.

“So what’s the agenda for today? You mentioned something about a surprise for me last night?” the blonde asked and he felt the hands on his back begin rubbing small circles.

“Yes. It is in the salvage room. Yesterday, when you sent me for coconuts, I came back here to find your ‘radio’ as a present. I did not find it, but I _did_ find something else,” Crowley explained.

Ezra was a little disappointed that he was no closer to finding a radio than he was yesterday, but the idea of presents helped take his mind off it. 

“How big of a surprise are we talking about? Should I applaud? Wear a blindfold?”

 _Oh_ if the thought of being blindfolded didn’t suddenly send tingles of excitement all the way down to the tips of Ezra’s toes. Judging by the naga’s strangled “ngk”, Crowley felt the same.

“N-no. No blindfolds,” He cleared his throat, rose out of “bed” and held out a hand for Ezra to take. “Come with me.”

Ezra accepted the offered hand and allowed himself to be gently tugged deeper into the cave, back towards the salvage room. Upon arrival, Crowley led him to a crate whose label had long since faded away, leaving behind no clue as to the contents within. The lid had already been ripped away but carefully replaced to contain the _mystery._

“My surprise wouldn’t happen to be in the _box_ , would it?” Ezra snarked.

Crowley just pointed at it without saying a word and the human raised his hands in a gesture of supplication. Without further ado, he lifted the lid of the crate.

And shrieked in delight.

_Clothes!_

Brand new, honest-to-goodness _clothes!_

Ezra leaned over the lid of the crate to begin pawing at the various garments. A few of them were a bit too small for him, but the vast majority looked like they either fit perfectly or if they _were_ too big, at least would be comfortable. 

He held up a vest in a shade of blue-grey that he felt would compliment his wintery hair _perfectly._

Crowley scratched his head nervously. “Clothes are not for me. But I thought _you_ might like them. Do you, angel?” he asked.

Ezra dropped the vest back into the crate and leapt into Crowley’s arms.

“I _love_ them! Thank you, my dear! Thank you _ever_ so much!”

Crowley hugged him back. Ezra waited eagerly for the teasing to begin; for Crowley to give him a saucy wiggle of his eyebrows and request another “reward kiss”.

It never came.

Crowley appeared to be more than content with a simple hug of gratitude.

_Well that just won’t do at all!_

Ezra wound a strand of the naga’s hair around his finger.

“Aren’t you going to ask for your ‘reward’, dear?”

Crowley, to Ezra’s surprise, just shook his head.

“No. I am alright. Thank you though,” he said and set the blonde back down.

Something cracked in Ezra’s chest. It left a bitter taste in his mouth that was quite different from simple disappointment. Was the unthinkable happening? Did Crowley no longer find him desirable? Had he gotten fed up with Ezra’s slowness and now no longer wanted to be his mate?

That shouldn’t have hurt Ezra as much as it did because it was exactly what he had wanted, wasn’t it? Only…

He couldn’t keep his bottom lip from trembling. He stepped away from the circle of Crowley’s arms to return to rummage through his new clothes in the hopes of taking his mind off the ugly feeling of rejection.

_Serves you right, Ezra. This was_ **_exactly_ ** _how you were going to make_ **_him_ ** _feel. You’re just lucky he caught on to how loathsome you truly are before things went any further. Now you can focus entirely on getting home with no silly distractions like handsome, stupidly sweet snake-men._

A calloused but gentle hand alighted on his shoulder.

“Angel? Are you okay? You seem sad,”

“I’m fine, Crowley. Just taking inventory,” he blinked his eyes rapidly to try and clear the gathering tears away before the other could see. “Everything in here is quite lovely and I can’t decide what to wear first.”

“Do not lie to me,”

Crowley’s voice was low, firm. He pulled lightly on Ezra’s shoulders to turn him around. “Angel, please, tell me what is wrong.” The smaller man lifted watery eyes and Crowley reared back at the sight of them. _“Angel…”_

“Do you not want me anymore, Crowley?” Ezra blurted.

Crowley’s face instantly morphed from shocked to confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“I offered you a reward and you didn’t take it,” Ezra said, trying to sound non-committal. “It’s perfectly fine if you no longer wish to continue courting me but I would greatly appreciate some honesty on this matter.”

_Honesty? Honesty?! You think you deserve it after you yourself spent the better part of a week deceiving him and continue to do so? You’re despicable!_

Crowley’s features hardened and Ezra was certain that he was about to be kicked out of their nest (could it even be called _theirs_ anymore?). 

Therefore, he was exceedingly surprised when he was backed up against the crate hard enough to send it almost teetering over. Ezra had half a second to regret opening his big mouth and then Crowley smashed their lips together.

Whereas their first few shared kisses had been fumbling, _this_ one was demonstrative. Crowley was growling slightly with every movement of his lips. Ezra’s knees went wobbly and he slumped, only to be gripped around the arms and hauled back upright. Crowley ended the kiss with a snarl of, “Never _not_ want you, angel.”

It took Ezra’s lust-addled brain a few seconds to come back online but when it did, he was more confused than ever. “Then why did you reject me when I offered you a kiss as thanks for the clothes?”

It was amazing how fast Crowley could go from feral to ashamed. His pupils, previously blown wide with desire, now returned to their regular knife-slash shape.

“After last night, I started feeling bad,” he mumbled. “I kept asking you for ‘reward kisses’ instead of allowing them to be given freely. I am sorry. I do not want you to kiss me because you feel like you have to.”

Once again Ezra was astonished by Crowley’s capacity for compassion. In an answer that was without words, he pulled the naga down for a kiss freely given, then pulled away after a few seconds.

“Crowley, dear, look at me,” he demanded. _“Everything_ I’ve given you was done of my own volition. If you want a kiss, ask me. If I don’t want to give one, I won’t. That’s how two-way relationships work and how boundaries are established. You have _never_ taken advantage of me, and I doubt you ever will.”

Crowley’s eyebrows arched upwards but the rest of his face was the picture of slack-jawed surprise. 

“Then…” he ducked his head. “...can I have another one?”

Ezra smiled, relieved.

“Of course, my dear, but just the one. I really _do_ need to sort through your lovely gift,” he replied.

Crowley was giddy as Ezra stood on tip-toe to kiss him; a subtle gesture that showed he was willing to go to the naga instead of the other way around. When their lips finally met, Ezra made up his mind to show his serpent something _new_.

Ezra persuaded the redhead’s mouth open and slipped his tongue inside. 

The reaction was instantaneous.

Crowley’s eyes snapped open, his hands stuttered where they gripped Ezra’s hips, and he let out a reverberating groan that the human could feel in his own teeth. Seeing as he hadn’t been violently shoved away in revulsion, Ezra took the other’s reaction as carte blanche to continue.

Crowley’s tongue was… different.

Not “bad” different, but “different” different.

It was narrower than a human tongue, but not overly so, with a forked division at the tip. The texture was roughly the same, if a bit smoother. Ezra was more than a little relieved to find that Crowley didn’t taste like raw meat or blood or any other ghastly thing. In fact, he didn’t taste quite like anything.

_No, that’s not true._

_He tastes **human.**_

The two of them resurfaced for air, a thin strand of saliva still joining them together. Ezra’s chest was heaving in great, desperate pants and Crowley’s blinks were sluggish and out of sync with each other.

Ezra started to giggle breathlessly. “See? Freely given.”

“...wahoo…” Crowley croaked.

The blonde snorted and took his friend’s hand. 

“Come on then, dear. Help me figure out which of your gifts look best on me,”

***~*~*~*~***

Anathema found Captain Newton already sitting at a table near the window of the cafe that served as their chosen rendezvous point. No longer wearing his crisp, white uniform from the voyage, he looked less like a “dashing yacht captain” and more of a “starving college student”. He was fiddling with the buttons of his dark overcoat and hadn’t noticed Anathema’s approach.

“Thank you _so much_ for meeting here on such short notice, Captain,” she said with a frantic, grateful air as she dropped into the chair across from him.

Newton jumped when she did so. “T-think nothing of it, Miss Device. It’s the least I can do after what happened to your friend. I have the coordinates to the island right here.” He slid a piece of paper across the table to Anathema who snatched it up as if it contained the secrets to the entire universe. “I also took the liberty of doing a little research myself. The island, as it turns out, isn’t listed on commercial sailing routes. I’m not certain why, though.”

Anathema folded the paper and slipped it into her purse. “Maybe it’s uninhabited. After all, why bother keeping track of a place if there’s no people to contact or trade with?” She stood up from the table. “I’m sorry to run off like this, but I need to get these coordinates to the Search and Rescue team. Thank you again for your help, Captain Newton.”

“Oh my last name isn’t Newton!” the man blurted.

Anathema paused, curious. “It’s not? Then what is it?”

“W-well, Newton is my _first name,_ but I mostly just go by Newt. My _last name_ is Pulsifier, but the Pulsifier name has a bit of a reputation amongst the maritime community for causing shipwrecks and storms with our bad luck. It’s just a silly superstition, but going by ‘Newton’ instead of ‘Pulsifer’ keeps the customers from running the opposite direction,” he chuckled nervously.

Anathema smiled. “Newt, then. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” she said with a wink that caused the “cursed” captain to blush furiously.

“T-thank you, Miss Device,”

“Just Anathema, please,”

“Anathema,”

She liked how her name sounded when he said it and the two of them shared a smile.

***~*~*~*~***

**2 Days Later**

Ezra rolled over in his nest and sleepily groped around the blankets for a warm, snakey body. When none was forthcoming, he opened his eyes.

He was alone, and the spot beside him had grown cold. He sat up.

“Crowley?”

His friend wasn’t anywhere in their nest, so Ezra went to search for him. The human had gotten better at navigating the winding passages of their shared cave, but after a thorough sweep, the naga was nowhere to be found.

Ezra wasn’t _worried_ , per say, but it did seem a little odd that Crowley wasn’t there when he woke up. Every day upon waking since coming to the island, the redhead had either been right beside him or wrapped around him. Was he upset? Had Ezra done something to anger him?

He began mentally checking off the other places he could be. If Crowley had decided to venture deeper into the jungle there was no way Ezra would be able to follow him. If he’d gone to the beach or the rockpool, though…

He decided the beach would be the first place he looked, and set off for it promptly. 

Upon exiting the cave, Ezra was struck by how _still_ everything was. He had gotten so accustomed to the chirps of tropical birds and the far cry of unknown animals, that hearing the island be as silent as a tomb sent a shiver up his spine. Even the _air_ smelled different. Something heavy hung in the atmosphere, cloying and _wet_ that carried with it the promise of coming suffering. As Ezra cautiously picked his way through the jungle to the beach, the canopy above him rustled ominously with the whistling of a wind that was too weighty to be a simple sea breeze. Despite it being morning, no sun shone through the trees, so blocked out by thick, roiling clouds that it darkened the area.

“Crowley?” he called out into the dimness beyond.

His voice was swallowed up by the smothering shadows. He picked up his pace, eager to find his friend as soon as possible so they could hide from whatever it was that was coming. When the treeline started thinning out into sand, Ezra broke into a run.

Standing on the shore, back to the jungle, was Crowley.

The naga was staring forward into the open ocean as the wind whipped his hair into a frenzy.

“Crowley!” Ezra cried.

Crowley swivelled around. 

“Angel? What is wrong?” he asked and held out his arms.

Ezra went gladly into them and squeezed him tight. “I was so _worried,_ Crowley. I woke up and you weren’t in our nest so I came to look for you. What are you doing out here and what’s going on? Why is everything so… strange?”

“A storm is coming,” Crowley said, and pointed out to the horizon. “A _big_ one.”

Ezra followed the line of his friend’s outstretched hand to where he was gesturing. Out across the sea, so wide that it was _all_ he could see, massive storm clouds as black as shadows at night gathered. The sea beneath it churned and frothed with sheets of driving rain. 

“T-that’s… is it coming this way?!” Ezra squeaked and clung to Crowley tighter.

His friend nodded.

“How often do these storms happen?!”

Crowley shrugged. It was obvious that he was trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes had a steely, determined glint to them.

“One or twice every few years,”

“And I just _had_ to fall overboard right when one was coming, huh?” Ezra moaned, letting his forehead thump against Crowley’s shoulder.

The naga just chortled good-naturedly and patted his back. “So what do we do then, Crowley? How do we stay safe?”

“We gather food and water to stock in the nest, then wait it out inside the cave,” Crowley replied. “I already took care of that earlier when I noticed the weather change. These storms only last three or four days with a break in the middle before it starts again.”

Ezra gasped in sudden realization. “ _Blanche!_ Oh no! She’ll be all alone out here in the worst of it! Crowley, we _have_ to find her and get her back to the nest so she’ll be safe!” he wailed.

“Angel, _angel,_ calm down! Blanche knows this! She and my other sisters always come to my nest for storms. They will be _fine,”_

Ezra felt subsumed with relief. “Oh thank _goodness._ Sorry to have panicked there,” then he paused. “Wait. You have other sisters?”

“Yep!” Crowley declared proudly and began counting off on his fingers. “There is Blanche, Sophia, Dorothy, and Rose. You have met Blanche, but I told the others early today that you will be there too.”

“The ‘Golden Girls’? Really?” Ezra asked.

“Blanche is the only one that is gold,” Crowley looked deeply confused.

Ezra opened his mouth to explain that “The Golden Girls” was a television show, but closed it again. The other man didn’t even know what a _radio_ was; explaining something as complex and in-depth as a television would probably give him a stroke.

“My mistake, dear. I thought they were all yellow like Blanche,”

Crowley put his hands on Ezra’s shoulders and began trying to push him back in the direction of the cave. 

“Come on. The storm will be here soon. We need to hide,”

***~*~*~*~***

Gabriel hadn’t left the bathroom for over an hour.

When he received the call from Captain Medina that the search had been temporarily halted in the wake of the oncoming hurricane and that Ezra had yet to be found, he’d barricaded himself in his bathroom.

From where Anathema sat on the floor outside it, she knew that he was just trying not to break down in front of her. “At least they said they were going to search the island once the storm passes.”

Gabriel didn’t reply. He hadn’t _been_ replying, but she could hear him trying to hide his weeping on the other side of the door. It crushed her already broken heart further to see him trying to keep up a tough facade. She’d repeatedly reminded him that it was _okay_ to cry, that she too cried herself hoarse over Ezra every day, but Gabriel remained stubborn.

_Ugh, they really are brothers in that regard…_

Anathema brought her phone to her face. Outside, the weather in London was sunny. On her Weather App, she tracked the path of the hurricane, hoping against reason that it might make a last-minute miraculous course-correction to avoid the island she suspected Ezra had washed up on.

It never did.

***~*~*~*~***

“Angel, these are my sisters,”

Inside the cave, Crowley held out his arms upon which were dangling four snakes; two to each arm.

“You have met Blanche,”

The white-gold viper in question hissed in greeting then dropped to the floor. 

“This is Sophia,”

Ezra flinched at the tell-tale rattle dangling from Sophia’s tail. She shook like a friendly wave, filling the cave with the sounds of maracas. She slid down her brother’s body to join Blanche, giving him an affectionate headbutt to his cheek on the way down.

“This is Dorothy,”

The snake he held up was longer and thinner than the previous two, with a head wider than her entire body and bulbous eyes. Ezra cooed at her and she hid her face in Crowley’s hair. “Dorothy is very shy,” the naga said by way of explanation.

He allowed her to remain hidden in his thick hair, looped around it like a living scrunchie, as he presented the fourth and final sister.

“Angel, meet Rose,”

Rose was _massive,_ at least two metres long with a thick body covered in brown and black scales. She simply stared at Ezra with flat, grey eyes and the human found himself shifting under her gaze. Rose was as tall as Crowley, so she didn’t really need to fall to get down from his arms; just lowered herself down by her tail. She never took her eyes off Ezra, even as she slithered off to find herself a cozy spot in the cave to wait out the storm.

“I am sorry about Rose. She is… protective of me,” Crowley apologized.

“It’s quite alright, dear. I’m sure she’ll come around to me eventually,” Ezra said, patting his friend’s arm. 

He still felt somewhat unnerved by Rose’s piercing stare, but he knew that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him and risk alienating her brother.

There came a sudden crack of thunder from the entrance to the cave and Dorothy and Blanche hissed with fright. Sophia rattled her tail.

“It’s alright, my dears, it’s alright,” Ezra tried to soothe them. “Crowley and I will protect you; _all_ of you. And you’ll protect us.”

Blanche and Sophia nodded. Even timid little Dorothy managed to peek out from behind the shelter of her brother’s hair and bob her head.

Ezra didn’t ask why a trio of wild animals were able to understand him and respond back. He’d already been sharing a nest with a creature from legend for the better part of a week, so hyper-intelligent snakes were just the next logical step in the bizarre chain of events that had become his life.

He felt Blanche trying to crawl up his legs, but the texture of his black slacks made it somewhat difficult for her. He bent over to scoop her up and drape her over his shoulders (which had become her preferred spot to nap in recent days). Crowley did the same with Sophia.

“Come along, my darlings. Let’s go to the salvage room and see if we can’t find some not-too-badly-waterlogged books or pack of cards to pass the time while we wait out the weather,” he said. “I’ll even teach you to play Blackjack if we find the right deck.”

A chorus of hisses and rattles went up that, to Ezra, sounded like cheers. He glanced over at Crowley who was staring at him with such open, unrivalled adoration that Ezra felt his face heat up in a pleasant blush.


	6. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose acts on her distrustful impulses, putting herself and Ezra in grave danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note (Who is also a Trained Medical Professional): A human ribcage can withstand a sharp, sudden impact of up to 3,300 Newtons of force with a 25% chance of cracking a rib upon impact. Converted to Kilograms, 3,300 Newtons becomes 336.5 Kilograms.

“Alright Blanche, now you just take the- no, not like that. No, just…  _ spit that out!” _

Blanche tried to squirm away with her pilfered treasure, but Ezra caught her by the tail. Between them lay a deck of cards with four individual ones face up in front of Ezra and now  _ three  _ individual ones face up where Blanche had just been.

The fourth one (Black, Three of Clubs) was clutched between her fangs and the golden viper was trying her best to swallow it before Ezra could snatch it back. From a few feet away, perched atop a comfortable rock, Sophia rattled her tail encouragingly.

True to his word, Ezra had found a pack of playing cards in a box labelled, “Igloo Toys” (as well as an adorable stuffed polar bear that Dorothy was currently wrapped around) and was now trying to teach the snakes Blackjack. He’d first attempted Poker, with the “hands” propped up by rocks, but the snakes’ poker faces were  _ too good  _ and Ezra ended up losing every time.

He dragged Blanche back towards him and pinched the corner of the card that was still visible outside of her jaws.

“Give that back, you little terror! You could choke! Don’t make me get Crowley!” he threatened.

Crowley was, surprisingly, the best poker player of them all. He always knew  _ just  _ when to fold or hold as the situation called for it, and his tell was practically invisible. Everyone but Rose had been having a jolly time, when the large constrictor wound her way up Crowley’s shoulder to whisper something in his ear.

The naga’s face had shuttered in concern for a moment, before he put his cards down.

“Rose wants to talk to me alone. I’ll be back in a minute,”

The two of them had slithered off and Ezra started showing Blanche how to play Blackjack, which was how he found himself trying to wrestle a playing card out of a viper’s mouth twenty minutes later.

With a cry of triumph, the blonde wrenched the card away and held it aloft like a sword. 

A torn, crumpled, slightly moist sword.

Blanche huffed and went to join Sophia on the rock.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, ma’am. Last thing I need is Crowley coming back from his chat and finding out I let you eat something you shouldn’t,” Ezra explained, affronted.

Speak of the devil…

Crowley came stomping (insomuch as a man with the lower half of a snake reasonably  _ can  _ stomp) into the room with a scowl. 

Rose was nowhere to be seen.

“Crowley, dear, are you alright?” Ezra asked.

Crowley made a sound that was somewhere between a hiss and a growl. “ _ I’m  _ fine, but Rose is being a… a…” he turned to shout out into the tunnel behind him. “... _ big jerk!” _

A furious hiss was the reply.

Crowley threw his arms up in the air and sat down on his coils, leaving enough room on them for Ezra to come sit beside him.

“What did she say that’s got you so worked up?” Ezra asked.

“It’s nothing, angel,” the naga growled, but he sounded nervous.

Ezra turned Crowley’s face towards him.

“Dear, you told me not to lie to you, so now I’m asking the same.  _ Please  _ talk to me,” he whispered.

Crowley’s face scrunched up in a half-pout-half-pained expression. 

“You won’t like it, angel,” he replied hoarsely.

“Let  _ me  _ be the judge of that,” said softly, petting Crowley’s hair. They shared a tentative smile.

“Rose doesn’t like you,” the naga exclaimed desperately.

Ezra’s hand stilled its movement. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, angel, but she thinks you’re going to hurt me. She doesn’t trust you,”

Ezra’s hands folded together in his lap. He stared off into the middle distance, letting Rose’s accusation sink in.

  
_ Well, she’s not wrong. I  _ am  _ going to end up hurting her brother one way or another if I leave. She’s right to not trust me, but… _

The human rubbed his palms across his slacks to wipe off the guilty sweat that had suddenly appeared. “Well, you can assure Rose that I won’t ever…” he trailed off. Saying that he would never hurt Crowley was a lie, plain and simple. He didn’t want to lie to Crowley. “You can assure her that I would  _ never  _ wish to cause you harm.”

Crowley sighed happily and leaned against Ezra. “I know you won’t, angel. I told her so. I think she’s just mad that it’s not the five of us anymore. There’s  _ you  _ now.”

Crowley’s words drew a little “oh” of surprise out of the blonde beside him. That  _ bizarre  _ fluttering was back in his chest, mixed with compassion for Rose. Ezra didn’t doubt that Crowley might have had the right of things. Rose  _ was  _ probably upset that her beloved brother had found a new person to spend his time with (as temporary as it may be); Ezra would feel the same, were their situations reversed.

“Would you like me to talk to her, dear?” Ezra asked, patting Crowley’s arm. “Perhaps it would help if I told her that I have  _ no  _ intention of breaking up your family.”

Crowley blew air from between his lips and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think it’ll work, but be my guest,”

Ezra straightened his sweater vest and rose to stand. “Just you watch, my dear. I’ll have her back in here playing cards with us again in  _ no time. _ Speaking of which, while I’m gone, make sure Blanche doesn’t try to eat any more of the deck.”

“Wait, what?”

Ezra, however, was already padding out of the salvage room to go track down the errant python.

“If she tries to eat you, just scream!” Crowley called.

Ezra didn’t  _ truly  _ believe that Rose would eat him, but he made sure to keep his guard up just in case.

He found Rose curled up near the entrance to the cave, watching the hurricane outside. The rain was practically sideways. Beyond their shelter, into the grey chaos beyond, Ezra could see trees bowing beneath the onslaught of the screaming wind. 

“Crowley tells me that you aren’t very fond of me,” he said, coming up beside her.

Rose hissed weakly; not so much of a threat as simply reminding him of her opinion. Ezra sat down beside her, legs crossed.

“I won’t claim to know how you feel, Rose, but I have a brother too. Although, I suppose, I guess that does help me understand, at least a little,” His fingers drummed anxiously at his knees. “Is Crowley older or younger than you? One hiss for older, two hisses for younger.”

No reply was forthcoming, but then a tiny little tongue flickered out.

Twice.

“Ah, younger brother, then. My brother is younger than me as well. His name is Gabriel. He’s a good man, if a bit obnoxious at times. He’s constantly fussing over my ‘outdated’ wardrobe and trying to get me to go to the gym with him all the time because he’s too scared to flirt with the receptionist on his own and needs a ‘wingman’. For the life of me, though, I don’t understand why it’s called ‘wingman’...”

Rose still wasn’t looking at him, but at least she hadn’t tried to crush him in her coils. Ezra considered that to be progress. He reached out a tentative hand to pat her head but she hissed and he withdrew the offending limb. “My apologies, good madam.”

The two of them sat there in mutual semi-awkward silence, watching the storm and listening to it howl through the mouth of the cave.

“I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for your brother,” Ezra said after a time. “He bandaged my leg after I sliced it open on some coral, brought me food, and even offered me shelter in his- our nest. Crowley he’s… he’s _wonderful._ _Far_ more than I deserve, really.”

Rose petulantly nodded her head as if to say, “ _ yes he is _ ”. Ezra sighed.

“I can’t promise to  _ never _ hurt him, because that’s not how the world works. But I can promise you that no physical harm will come to him by my hand. His happiness means so much to me and I lo- care for him a great deal,”

Rose’s eyes never left the driving sheets of rain before them, but her entire length relaxed a little. It wasn’t trust, but it was a start. Feeling that lingering any longer would be overstaying his welcome, Ezra stood back up.

“I hope, one day, you can come to see me as a friend,”

He didn’t look back to see if Rose was watching him (bad luck, looking back) and returned to the salvage room. Halfway there, he met Crowley who had been coming to find him.

“I take it from the lack of screams that you survived?” Crowley said teasingly.

“Indeed. She still hasn’t quite warmed up to me, but I feel we made progress today,”

“That’s good,” the naga purred. 

His strong arms came up around Ezra to press the human against him. Crowley nuzzled the other’s pale throat, leaving his sandalwood-scent behind. The feel of such a tender mark of possession made Ezra’s brain feel like it was floating in champagne: bubbly, and a little drunk. The blonde, who had been observing this act of “scenting”, moved to do the same. He wasn’t sure if, being a human, he even  _ had  _ a scent to leave behind, but it seemed to make Crowley happy, and he  _ had  _ just told Rose that he would do whatever he could to make her brother happy. 

The redhead let out a faint groan when Ezra dragged his face across the right side of his chest. The human did it again on the left side, this time brushing his mouth against the warm skin, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses.

Ezra had no clue what constituted a successful “scenting”, but he evidently did just fine. 

“So, has Blanche given up on thinking that decks of cards are suitable prey while I was gone?” he chuckled.

Crowley stiffened. “Uh oh. I left her alone with them.”

He was shooting back into the salvage room so fast that Ezra almost spun (literally) from the force of Crowley yanking his hands away.

From inside the room he could hear the lower-pitched hissing that belonged to Crowley as he scolded Blanche, and the daintier hissing that rose in objection to it.

_Ah, sibling love._ _Speaking of…_

Ezra cast one look back towards where Rose had been seated, and felt his heart stop. 

He barely managed to catch sight of the last few inches of her tail before it disappeared into the squall of the hurricane. Ezra’s mouth went dry and his throat clenched shut, but he managed to force out, “C- _ Crowley!  _ Rose went outside! She’s- she’s- oh dash it all! She’s  _ running away _ !”

He didn’t stop to check if Crowley had heard him; every second he wasted on hesitation was another second that put Rose at further risk. Heedless of the wind and rain (and subsequent drenching of his new clothes) Ezra threw himself out into the heart of the storm.

The force of the gusts nearly sent him tumbling arse-over-kettle, but he caught himself against a cracked tree. He compelled himself back upright, leaning into the wind to remain so.

“Rose!  _ Rose!!” _ he screamed into the gale.

He didn’t realistically expect to hear her quiet hisses over the sounds of the hurricane, but he had hoped she would at least come back to him.

_ Heaven help me. How am I going to find  _ one  _ snake in all this mess?! _

It was a fool’s errand, but Ezra was just the right fool to do it. 

_ Alright, she can’t have gotten far. I promised her I would make Crowley happy, and keeping her safe is a fairly good way of doing that. _

He pressed forward, praying desperately that he wouldn’t be skewered on an errant tree trunk or something equally as gruesome. Every few steps, while keeping an eye trained on the ground, he’d stop and call out for Rose again. 

“Rose,  _ please  _ come back!” he yelled, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound. “I know you’re upset, but Crowley would be  _ heartbroken  _ if he lost you! What about Blanche and Sophia and Dorothy? They’ll be devastated!”

The chilly water stung his eyes and he dragged his sleeve across his face to clear them, though it didn’t do much good. All around him were the sounds of trees groaning and cracking beneath the onslaught of the wind.

“ _ Please,  _ Rose! Just-”

Ezra’s foot came down on a slick rock that shifted beneath his weight and sent him sprawling face-first in the mud. He wiped the sticky substance from his face, went to stand back up, but caught sight of a brown snout poking out from beneath a shrub.

“Rose? Is that you?”

The snout retreated for a moment, then slowly crept forward to reveal the beady grey eyes of Crowley’s sister. Ezra exhaled his relief. He held out his hands.

“Come now, good madam, we need to get back inside before things get any worse out here,”

Rose resolutely shook her head, but the lightning strike that toppled an old tree  _ dangerously  _ close to her hiding spot changed her mind well enough. She shot forward, straight into Ezra’s arms, who gathered her up gladly.

_ Oof! She’s quite hefty! It’s rude to comment on someone’s weight though, so I shan’t say a thing. _

Rose adjusted herself in Ezra’s hold for him to carry her more easily.

“Let’s go, then. I do hope the others aren’t too upset by the time we get back…”

The constrictor hid her face under her coils, ashamed, as Ezra stumbled back in the direction of the cave.

They had  _ almost  _ made it to safety, when Ezra heard something crack behind him. He spun on his heels to confront the threat, when a long, thick branch broke free. 

Ezra had all of half a second to fling Rose away from himself, and then the branch was crushing him to the ground by his chest. The impact forced all the air from his lungs, though he valiantly tried to scream at the sudden, bruising pain in his sternum. His fingers clutched and scrabbled at the branch, but it was impossible to throw off, and the ground was too slick and muddy for Ezra to squirm away.

None of his ribs felt broken ( _ small mercies _ ), but the weight of the thing was making it hard for the human pinned beneath it to get a full breath of air. The tiny tongue and worried puff of breath on his face felt like a lifeline.

“R-ro… get- get Crow-” he wheezed.

Rose didn’t need to hear anymore. She slithered for help as fast as her snakey body would carry her.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley was frantic.

He had heard his mate scream something about Rose and “outside”, but when he went to investigate, neither of them were by the entrance to the cave. He hadn’t seen them go past him, so that left only one other option...

Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia had wanted to go searching for them with him, but he’d told them to stay inside in case one or both returned while he was gone.

Now, however, he was starting to think that maybe he should have accepted their help. 

Crowley scented the air with his tongue every second, but couldn’t pick up Rose  _ or  _ his Angel’s smell against the overpowering ozone-smell of the surrounding storm.

“Angel! Rose!” he howled against the wind.

_ “Brother! Brother!!” _

Crowley saw Rose wiggling towards him and he snatched her up without a moment’s hesitation, worry writ plain on every line of his face. “Rose! Are you alright? Where’s angel?”

“ _ I’m okay, but the Brother-Stealer needs help! He’s hurt!”  _ Rose frantically exclaimed.

She pointed in the opposite direction with the tip of her tail and Crowley’s breath hitched. He carefully set her back down.

“I’m going to help him. The cave isn’t far. Can you make it back alone?”

Rose nodded and rushed for their shelter. Crowley, meanwhile, hurried to the area his sister had indicated while screaming for his mate to answer him.

It didn’t take long for him to find the Angel.

The blonde was flat on his back, sunken slightly into the rain-suffused earth with a fallen branch across his chest that had to have been at  _ least  _ 50 kilograms!

Crowley noticed he wasn’t struggling.

“ _ ANGEL!!”  _

*~*~*~*~*

For Ezra, everything had gone a little fuzzy around the edges. It was getting harder and harder to fill his lungs with every breath as the branch pressed down tighter on his ribs. He’d ceased trying to push it off when it proved too heavy and realized that the exertions of doing so just wasted precious oxygen. His best chance was to just hold still, keep calm, and wait for Crowley’s inevitable rescue.

Assuming Rose  _ had  _ gone for help and not just left him out in the rain to die.

_ Oh don’t talk about our dear Rose like that. She may be upset with me, but she’s not a murderer! I do hope she’s safe, though… _

The branch compressed him a little more, and a little more air was lost to never be retrieved. He could feel the blood pounding in his skull, and his heart beating a frantic tattoo against the inside of his chest, which was rapidly becoming more and more cramped for space. It felt like everything he saw and heard was covered in a layer of TV static.

“ _ ANGEL!!” _

Except for that.

Ezra’s head rolled to the side and, through his blurred vision, he could see Crowley crouched down beside him with both hands gripping the underside of the branch. The naga’s eyes were wild with fear, and Ezra couldn’t tell if it were tears or rainwater that flowed down his friend’s face.

_ Do be careful with that, dear. Don’t throw your back out. Practice proper lifting technique. Lift with your legs- er- never mind then. _

He may have been slightly delirious.

Crowley, however, lifted his end of the branch like it weighed little more than a small terrier. 

_ I shouldn’t be surprised. He  _ is  _ quite strong. I wonder what the most he can lift is? _

Once the weight was gone from his chest, Ezra felt a coil of tail curl around his wrist to drag him away from the branch as Crowley dropped it back to the ground with a tremendous thud. Ezra started to try and breathe properly again, but the bruises on his skin and battered muscles of his diaphragm made it difficult to do so without pain.

Every inhale was torturous, every exhale a relief. So focused was he closing his eyes and trying to will the pain away, that he barely noticed Crowley gathering him up.

“ _ Please,  _ angel.  _ Please  _ wake up!” Crowley begged, sounding absolutely  _ wretched _ .

_ Goodness, I haven’t let my dear serpent know that I’m alright, have I? _

Though it took quite a bit of effort to do so, Ezra craned open his eyes to smile up at the being who had come to his rescue for the umpteenth time.

“Thank you for the-” He took a less painful breath. “-the timely intervention, dear boy,”

Crowley let out a desperate laugh wet with- yes those were tears.

“Angel!” he sobbed in relief and kissed him.

Crowley’s lips against Ezra’s were so nice and warm compared to the relative chill of the storm. The redhead clutched him tighter, afraid to let him go. Ezra winced at the increased pressure, and Crowley had to slacken his hold, breaking the kiss. “Sorry, angel.”

Ezra chuckled weakly. “It’s alright, my dear. Could we go inside now, though? It’s a bit damp out here.”

“Of course,”

Crowley moved through the storm like it wasn’t even there. The only evidence that he even was aware of it, was a slight adjusting of his grip to ensure Ezra didn’t get blown away, and the way his carmine hair snapped about his head in the gusts.

He was a  _ sight _ ; tall and imposing with the rainwater clinging to his bare chest like a second skin and the stony, determined set to his brow- oh, Ezra had to fight not to swoon like a Victorian maiden.

_ And he’s all for me, _ he thought somewhat giddily and snuggled into those powerful arms.

Maybe he was still a bit delirious…

Maybe.

At least, that was what he was telling himself to justify the swooping feeling in his stomach everytime Crowley’s eyes flitted to him to make sure he was still breathing.

They reached the cave in record time, where they saw Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia gathered anxiously around the entrance, awaiting their brother’s and Ezra’s return.

Sophia was the first to inquire about the human’s safety by way of a distressed tail rattle.

“He’s alright, Sophia. We both are,”

All four snakes relaxed, though Rose’s body language was colored with guilt. Crowley threw her a glare that melted into gentle concern when he looked back at Ezra.

“Thank you for saving my sister,” he said with a soft kiss to the blonde’s forehead.

“I would do it again, my dear. She means a lot to you, therefore she means a lot to me,” Ezra sighed contentedly.

His chest still ached, and would most likely have a large bruise, but seeing Crowley pleased at having his older sister alive and unharmed was more than worth it. He truly meant what he’d said about gladly charging into a Hurricane all over again if it meant keeping Crowley happy.

_ But would you stay on this island for him? Would you forsake all others to remain here?  _

That thought didn’t sound like himself  _ or  _ Imaginary-Anathema. It didn’t sound like Imaginary-Gabriel (who had yet to make an appearance, thankfully - Ezra wasn’t sure if he could handle that)  _ or  _ that bitter, spiteful voice that accused him of being manipulative.

It sounded soft, genuinely inquisitive.

_ I… I don’t want him to be sad, but… _

He didn’t think anymore after that. He let himself be dried off and fussed over instead. It was easier than dealing with conflicted emotions.

Crowley had taken one of the blankets from their nest and was toweling off Ezra’s hair.

“Rose is in  _ ssssso much trouble _ ,” the naga kept saying. “She almossssst got you killed; almost got  _ herself  _ killed!”

Ezra had never seen him so  _ angry  _ before. Crowley’s eyes, the sclera normally a warm amber, had gone almost fluorescent yellow in his fury and were actually  _ glowing _ . Black scales broke out up and down his arms as his fangs elongated, drawing out the “s” sounds of his words.

Ezra pushed the cloth away and took one of Crowley’s hands in his. “My dear, are you alright? You’re starting to… change.”

He turned the redhead’s palm down to show him the back of his hand. Crowley startled and tried to yank it back, but Ezra held firm.

“S-sssssorry, angel. I- I can’t always control it,” the naga said, looking away and frowning in shame.

Ezra tutted and kissed the patch of scales on his friend’s hand. They sank back down under the skin at his caring touch.

_ Ah. It seems Crowley’s more “monstrous” aspects are triggered by his emotional state. _

The idea of Crowley getting angry and transforming into something horrific  _ should  _ have terrified Ezra. It  _ should  _ have sent him fleeing into the storm, preferring to take his chances out there than with the “monster” in the cave.

It did neither.

He knew on all levels, superficial  _ and  _ deep down, knew it with every fibre of his being, every scrap of his soul, that Crowley would never hurt him.

He continued lavering sweet little pecks to every scaly patch on both of Crowley’s arms until they were all gone, propped himself on his knees to kiss both eyelids to return their natural color, then finally pushed his tongue into the redhead’s mouth for a kiss equal parts tender and passionate. He felt the fangs in the other’s mouth retract to their standard (if still longer than a human’s canines) length and smiled against Crowley’s mouth.

“Don’t be too angry at Rose,” Ezra sighed when it ended. “She was just upset because she thinks I’ll either hurt you or take you away from her.”

Crowley grumbled as an answer, but it wasn’t a “no”. One of his hands pushed Ezra lightly down into the nest by his shoulders while the other rucked up the blonde’s sweater vest to get a look at the damage to his chest.

Ezra allowed the sodden garment to be pulled over his head and tossed into the corner with a wet splat. Already his pale skin (now dusted with a few freckles from his time in the tropical sun) was stained with an inky purple bruise that reached from one underarm to the other. It wasn’t dangerous or fatal, but it  _ was  _ unsightly. Ezra could already picture it fading to a mottled adipocere-like[1] color.

Crowley seemed to have caught on to Ezra’s unhappy musings on the state of his body, and moved to act. He lowered himself down until his torso was bracketed by the blonde’s thighs and pressed loving kisses to every bruised and battered inch of skin.

Ezra didn’t blush, but it was a close thing. He felt delighted and blindsided in equal measure from the tender yet seductive energy his friend was giving off. When Crowley’s lips brushed over his nipple, Ezra couldn’t stifle the tiny moan that tripped from his throat. At the sound of it, Crowley’s eyes opened to look up at the other man from where he was positioned between his legs. 

The naga sent him a teasing smile, and Ezra started to imagine what that same smirk would look like while Crowley’s lips were wrapped around his cock.

_ Good Lord! _ , he squeaked internally and slapped his hands over his eyes, as if that would block out the tantalizing vision.

Ezra would forever be grateful that his slacks were soaked through with frigid water. 

It certainly kept- ah-  _ parts  _ of himself from making his interest known.

He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. Was he going to uncover his eyes and see Crowley’s intense face hovering just inches away, ready to act on what they both were clearly feeling? Was Ezra going to make some excuse about being too tired? Was he just going to throw caution to the wind and let Crowley  _ take him _ ?!

_ No. Not that last one. I can’t do that to him. I will  _ not  _ take advantage of him more than I already have. _

From above him, Crowley sighed in frustration.

“My sisters are here,”

Ezra peeled his hands away from his face and glanced at the entrance to their nest. Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia were all clamoring over each other to get into the room, but Rose was hanging back in the shadows, obviously unsure if she was even welcome.

Crowley dangled his tail over the edge of the cushion pile which enabled the smaller three to scale him like a tree.

Blanche made it up first and began hissing loudly into Ezra’s ear.

“What is she saying, my dear?” he giggled, pushing her away a little so her tongue wasn’t tickling him.

“She’s saying, ‘Thank you for saving Rose, even if she  _ is  _ kind of stupid’,” Crowley translated.

Sophia rattled her tail as an agreement, ever mute. Dorothy simply curled around Ezra’s wrist and batted her head against it as if reassuring herself he was unharmed. The human brought his ensnared wrist up to his face to nuzzle noses with the little anxious snake.

“There, there, little one, I’m alright. Your brother made sure of that,” He looked back to the doorway. “What about you, Rose my darling? Don’t you want to be part of this cuddle puddle?”

Rose lifted her head slightly, genuinely surprised that she was being invited in the face of her near-catastrophic temper-tantrum. She looked at Crowley for confirmation, who nodded his head and held out his arms.

“Get over here, sister,”

Rose moved faster than she had in a long time and practically threw herself into the pile of snakes (and one human). There was a fair bit of jostling, rearranging of bodies, and even a pained grunt as Crowley was accidentally elbowed in the forehead, but the six of them managed to contort themselves into a way that allowed enough room for everyone.

Ezra hummed happily, his head resting on the crook of Crowley’s arm, when Rose placed her large head against his cheek-to-cheek and began hissing.

“What’s Rose saying?”

Crowley curled his arm, enveloping both Ezra and Rose in a side-hug. “She’s saying that she’s sorry for getting you hurt and that she was wrong about you. She wants to be your friend, and have your forgiveness, if you can give it.”

“There’s  _ nothing  _ to forgive, precious thing,” Ezra answered, running his hands over the length of her body for as long as he could reach. “And you may have my friendship, so long as I have yours.”

Rose snuggled closer to Ezra, who held her and, in turn, was hugged by Crowley, making the three of them a matryoshka doll of love and forgiveness. 

Outside, the hurricane raged on.

Inside, everything was safe, and warm, and just where it should be.

*~*~*~*~*

1AUTHOR'S NOTE:Adipocere is a greyish-yellow-green substance that is produced from corpses in a moist environment. DON'T Google a picture of it unless you're prepared to be grossed out.[return to text]


	7. The Doomed Colonies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a little peek into the island's backstory, hinting that there might be more to our naga love-interest than meets the eye...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that this chapter contains mild Horror Elements.

**Three Days Later**

As soon as the hurricane had moved on from the search area, Gabriel was on the phone with Captain Medina to ask when the sweep of the island could begin. 

“Mr. Fell, we’re doing all we can, but there are legal matters we have to see to before we can continue the search,” Medina said carefully.

“‘Legal matters’?” spat Gabriel. _“What_ are you talking about?”

Medina sighed in a way that suggested he had been hoping that Gabriel wouldn’t ask.

“Look, Mr. Fell, I’ll be up front with you. The island that you suspect Ezra washed up on is under legal protection by the governments of France, Spain, _and_ the U.K. as a nature preserve. Visitation to the island has been outlawed since 1912, and not even conservationists or wildlife biologists are allowed to set foot on it,”

“What?! If it’s a nature preserve why aren’t _scientists_ of all people allowed to go there?!” came Gabriel’s fierce reply.

“From what I can gather, sir, the island is simply _too dangerous_ for human visitation. It’s home to large, aggressive species of snakes and has been the location of _no less than nine_ failed colonization attempts by all of the governments I just listed dating all the way back to 1733,” the Captain said. “The simple fact of the matter is that my men and I _can’t_ check the island without proper clearance; to do so would be to cause an international incident. I can submit an application to all three governments requesting visitation permission citing extenuating circumstances, but beyond that, there’s nothing more I can do.”

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. He was struggling to maintain his composure and wasn’t sure if he’d either burst into desperate sobs or verbally tear the man on the other end of the line a new one. Neither was likely to get his brother back, so Gabriel swallowed down the tears and the vitriol.

“What’s this ‘forbidden island’ even called, anyway?” he frowned.

“Depends on who you ask. The Spanish accounts of the colonies call it ‘La Isla del Diablo’ and the English colonists simply called it ‘Hell’. Don’t bother asking for any French records of it, the French government refuses to even acknowledge its existence to anyone except those with the right credentials. If you’d like, I can forward you what information I _do_ have and you can look it over for yourself while we await authorization,”

“Thank you, Captain Medina. I would appreciate that,” Gabriel replied. “How long do you think it will take to hear back about getting approval to search the island?”

“Anywhere from a few days to two weeks,”

The younger Fell brother muttered something under his breath that sounding like, _“fucking bureaucracy”_.

**_*~*~*~*~*_ **

The sun felt nothing short of _Heavenly_ when Ezra stepped out of the cave for the first (well, technically second) time since the hurricane began. All around him were bent and broken trees, uprooted plants, and places where the ground was more liquid than soil. Despite the destruction, however, life had returned to the jungle in the form of its birds and other wildlife.

Ezra did a little twirl a la Julia Roberts, basking in the warmth and light. He spun a little _too hard_ and would have fallen over were he not caught by a pair of hands.

“Easy there, angel. Don’t make yourself sick,” Crowley said, his voice laced with fondness.

“I can do whatever I want! I’m celebrating!”

Ezra took Crowley by the hands and somehow managed to drag him into an impromptu dance, though to an outsider it looked more like the taller one swaying side to side on his tail and the smaller one jumping up and down giddily than _actual_ dancing.

A trio of _furious_ hisses suddenly rang out through the air accompanied by an equally incensed rattle. Ezra flinched and pressed closer to Crowley.

“Goodness me! Have I done something to upset your sisters?” the human asked, clearly worried that his dancing might have been crossing a previously unknown line.

“No, you haven’t. They’ve just started on getting the jungle back to its old self,”

Ezra observed Sophia menacing a ficus with her rattle. “And… how do they do that?”

“By helping me whip the plants back into shape,” the naga explained. “Watch this.”

Crowley slithered over to a battered shrub. He folded his hands behind his back, straightened his posture, and told the plant, “I see you were too weak to withstand the storm. Yet somehow, despite your pathetic incompetence, you remain standing.” Ezra could only watch, mystified, as Crowley continued _threatening_ the jungle. “I don’t know how or why you weren’t reduced to a _worthless_ pile of splinters, but allow me to make one thing clear… _GROW BETTER NEXT TIME OR SO HELP ME_ **_SOMEBODY,_** _I WILL TURN YOU INTO MULCH AND USE YOU TO LINE MY SISTERS’ DENS!!”_

The plant, despite all known laws of nature dictating its inability to do so, actually _trembled_ under the force of Crowley’s threats and forced itself to spontaneously grow new shoots. The naga sniffed disdainfully before returning to Ezra’s side.

“See? Nothing to it. Just gotta remind ‘em who’s the Big Boss around here,”

“Well it’s certainly… effective,” the human winced in sympathy for the poor dears.

***~*~*~*~***

Gabriel came out of the bathroom, toweling off his still-wet hair, and froze when he caught sight of Anathema sitting at his kitchen table furiously typing away at her laptop while that _fucking_ yacht Captain (Salamander? Lizard?) leaned over her shoulder to peer at the screen.

“How did you get in here?” Gabriel demanded of his friend. “And what’s _he_ doing here?”

The Captain flinched, but Anathema never bothered looking up from her computer as she waved him off.

“I know where you hide your spare key,” she said back. “I wanted to do some more research about that island with you, but you weren’t answering your phone, so I just let myself in.”

“I was in the _shower!”_ Gabriel sputtered. “You could have walked in on me naked or something!”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Anathema replied airily. “Remember that time when the three of us got drunk in Pamplona and dared each other to go streaking to see who could run the farthest before getting caught?”[1]

Gabriel tilted his head to the side and nodded slightly with arched eyebrows, conceding the point. 

Newt’s face fell. “Oh are you two…” he pointed between the both of them. “...together?”

Immediately Gabriel and Anathema objected vociferously to the idea.

 _“She’s_ too weird!”

 _“He’s_ too boring!”

 _“She’s_ waaay too committed to her ‘aesthetic’. Just like my brother!”

 _“He_ dresses like some fopped up CEO!”

“I _am_ a CEO!”

“It’s a _startup!”_

Newt flinched back, hands raised in surrender.

“M-my bad! I just didn’t want to presume is all…”

Anathema returned to her typing and Gabriel to his questioning as if they _hadn’t_ just sent a few barbs each other’s way.

The younger Fell brother gestured at Newt. “That still doesn’t explain why _he’s_ here.” 

“He wants to _help,_ Gabe,” she groaned, shaking her head. “I told him what Captain Medina told _us_ about the island being a forbidden nature preserve and Newt said he would offer whatever assistance he could.”

The Captain nodded. “I feel bad about what happened to your brother. I’ve never had a passenger go overboard before and I figured that I should at least _try_ to help a little.”

At that, Anathema pointed to her screen. “I’ve been reading over the information about it that Captain Medina sent us, but a few things stand out to me as being… weird.”

Newt scooted over to allow Gabriel to come stand behind Anathema and read over her shoulder.

“Apparently the island was _first_ discovered by Spanish sailors in 1733. Unfortunately, as they were trying to bring their galleon ashore to restock supplies, the entire ship ran aground. Nobody’s quite sure what happened to them, but no survivors of the wreck were found when the Spanish showed up there _again_ in 1741,”

“Wait, if nobody survived, how do we know they first landed there in 1733?” Gabriel asked, interrupting Anathema.

The woman pointed to an image of a faded, yellowed scrap of paper.

“This is a piece of the ship’s log. In Spanish, it reads: ‘March 30, 1733. Unmarked landmass spotted by lookout. Will attempt to establish contact with natives’. No more log entries were ever recorded, so it stands to reason they crashed shortly thereafter,”

“I thought there were no people living on that island,” Gabriel said carefully, furrowing his brow.

“There aren’t! In fact, there _never_ were. The 1733 crew just _thought_ there might be, as nobody had ever made landfall there previously. There are _nine_ other recorded visits, and none of them ever caught sight of any native peoples. Just look at this one! The Spanish stumbled across the island _again_ in 1741 while attempting to establish a port colony to better defend their galleons against pirate raids and _this time_ they actually managed to make it inland and set up a colony they called ‘Ovejero’.”

“What happened to that one?”

Newt was now practically draped over Anathema’s other shoulder opposite Gabriel, eager to hear more.

“Ovejero didn’t last long. They started having food shortages and crop failures. One farmer who came on the voyage to feed the colonists was reported as saying that it felt like the crops were all too _scared_ to grow, as they just rattled as if there were a breeze, even while no wind was present. When the food got too low to sustain the town, everyone packed up to return to Spain and Ovejero was abandoned,”

Gabriel scoffed. “Scared plants? What is this, ‘Lost’?”

Anathema shot him a glare and he allowed her to continue.

“The French were the next to attempt to build a port on the island in 1745. This one, however, simply ran out of funding from the home country and left the settlement too,” the occultist swallowed nervously. “From there on, things got worse for people who visited the island…”

All three of them felt a frisson of fear up their spine that they couldn’t quite place.

“England finally took a stab at settling it in 1791, and called their town ‘Phillips Colony’. This one, however, actually managed to come prepared with plenty of supplies and money to last a long time. They were driven away, however, by something the people claimed ‘stalked them in the night’. Livestock were butchered, crops and supplies destroyed, and people who stayed out too long after dark mysteriously vanished, with no trace of them ever being found,”

 _“Fuck,”_ Gabriel whispered.

“Did they ever find out what was attacking them?” Newt asked, worried.

“No. No physical descriptions of the assailant exist. The only ones who could tell us what it looked like are the ones who disappeared, and they’ll never get the chance to…”

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra’s post-hurricane island cleanup efforts were going smoothly. With Crowley’s help, he’d managed to re-clear their path to the beach and rockpool. 

Though now he had this huge pile of useless, fallen timber to contend with… maybe he could build something with it. He didn’t think he’d be able to craft a sea-worthy vessel without the proper instructions, but surely a simple raft was doable? If nothing else, once they dried they’d be decent firewood.

“Crowley, my dear, would you mind terribly if I kept these? I think they could be useful for-”

He turned around and noticed that his friend was no longer there.

“Crowley?”

He turned again. “Dear?”

From behind, he was seized by his waist and hoisted into the air with a squeak of surprise.

“A-ha! I have captured the elusive Angel! He is now within my grasp!” Crowley cackled evilly.

Ezra threw a hand across his forehead and pretended to swoon. “Oh woe is me! I am at the mercy of the great Crowley, the _fiercest beast_ in all the land! I never even heard him coming, and now I am _doomed_ because of my own folly!”

Crowley lowered Ezra to the ground with a chuckle. “I _am_ very sneaky, angel.”

***~*~*~*~***

“Captain Medina told me there were _nine_ doomed colonies. What happened to the other five?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m getting there!” Anathema scolded him. “The Spanish came back in 1796 to set up a seaside fort against pirates called ‘Fort San Eduardo’. The night that construction was completed, the _entire thing_ burned to the ground. The occupants who _weren’t_ killed in the fire fled into the jungle beyond to escape the blaze. None of them survived, save for _one man_ who managed to escape out to sea in a small boat. He nearly died from exposure on the open ocean, but was picked up by a passing Chinese merchant ship. Apparently, by the time he was found, the sole survivor of the attack on Fort San Eduardo was stark raving mad. He kept babbling about a ‘beast with eyes of fire’ who dragged the humans of Fort San Eduardo into the jungle to rip them to pieces. He claimed that he could still see the creature’s eyes every time he closed his own, and hear the sounds of wet tearing whenever he tried to sleep. By the time the merchant ship who rescued him arrived home in Shanghai, the man had hung himself in his cabin.”

The silence following Anathema’s words practically had a physical presence. Gabriel dropped heavily onto the couch with a breathless curse and Newt had gone green.

“The same thing happened again in 1833 when the Spanish tried to settle the island one final time,” Anathema continued quietly. “They named the island Santa Victoria, but the colony was once again set ablaze. No survivors this time.”

***~*~*~*~***

“I never quite thanked you for the flint and steel you gave me the first day I came here,” Ezra said.

He dumped another little heap of scavenged wood in the corner of the salvage room. Crowley did the same with his more sizable pile.

“You would have been rubbing those sticks together _forever_ if I hadn’t,” the naga snickered softly, dusting off his hands.

Ezra gazed at their rapidly growing supply of wood taken from trees felled during the hurricane and pursed his lips thoughtfully. 

“Something on your mind, angel?”

“Well, dear, I was just thinking that it might be a fun idea to have a little beach-side bonfire tonight to celebrate the end of the storm. We can catch some fish to roast, maybe find some wild vegetables to add to it, then go for a night swim or lay on the sand and watch the stars,” Ezra sighed dreamily. “Just you and me.”

Crowley smiled, delighted at the idea. “Sounds _wonderful,_ angel.”

***~*~*~*~***

“The French gave two more back-to-back attempts at colonizing the island before giving up entirely like their Spanish contemporaries,” Anathema read. “One time in 1864, wherein they named the place Saint Alcest Island, and again in 1876 when they built a town called Mathieu-Royal. Both times were, of course, failures. The 1864 one ended with starvations related to, again, destroyed crops, butchered livestock, and pilfered supplies which drove the people away. Mathieu-Royal faced the usual death and destruction. Again, with no survivors.”

Newt counted on his fingers. “That’s only eight attempts. What happened to the ninth, and final, one?” he asked.

Anathema smirked and held a hand over her heart like she was back in American public school saying the Pledge of Allegiance. 

“Jolly Old England is what happened. The English like to think they were made of tougher stuff than the other two and claimed the island in the name of Queen Victoria in 1881. They called their settlement ‘Houghton’, after the man leading the expedition,” she said.

Gabriel groaned. “Let me guess: attacked?”

“No, actually. At least, not entirely,”

 _That_ surprised Gabriel and Newt into silence. Anathema’s face was crumpled in confusion. 

“According to this, on the morning of September 29, 1881 - three months after establishing Houghton - a hunting party ventured into the surrounding jungle to look for game. When they came back that evening, the fledgling town was _completely empty,”_ she said, baffled.

“Just like Roanoke!” Gabriel gasped.

Anathema snapped her fingers at him into a “you get it” gesture. “Apparently there were no signs of a struggle, such as ruined buildings or bodies in the street, but there _were_ scraps of bloodstained clothing scattered around. None of the missing townspeople were ever recovered, and the surviving hunting party left the island in fear for their lives. No cause for the disappearances was ever discovered, but there _was_ this drawing that hinted towards something _supernatural.”_ She turned her laptop around to show Gabriel the screen.

The younger Fell brother sucked in air through his teeth at the image. It was drawn in haste, probably by someone who was illiterate and using it as a way to get the message out about what had killed them before it descended. 

The creature, for no other word could describe it, had a long, thick snake tail attached to the bottom of a man’s torso that was leaner than a healthy human’s normally was. With the picture just being a sketch, it was hard to tell the color of its eyes, but the slitted pupil was evidence enough to prove the wrongness of them. The drawing of the creature showed its jaw unhinged, revealing a serpentine tongue sticking out past needle-thin fangs 8 centimeters long.

Gabriel didn’t necessarily _believe_ that the creature existed, but the thought of Ezra potentially being trapped on the island with a monster like that… he shivered.

***~*~*~*~***

The night was warm and cloudless. Ezra lay on his back in the sand on the beach with his arms folded across his chest and gazing up at the star-studded sky.

“Those were one of the first things I noticed upon arriving here,” he finally said after a long silence wherein the only sounds to be heard were the singing of the waves and the crackling of the small bonfire.

“What were?” Crowley asked, rolling over onto his side for a better look at the human lounging next to him.

Ezra swept his hands through the air as if reaching up to touch the twinkling lights far above. “The _stars,_ of course. They were so beautiful and I was so _moved_ that I just… just…”

Crowley took one of his outstretched hands and pulled it back down to earth.

“The first night you came here, I heard you talking to the sky. You sounded like you were talking to your mother. You said you hoped she was up there,” he said as he brought Ezra’s hand to his lips.

The human sniffled. “I… I did. I never knew my father, and my mother died quite suddenly after I turned twenty-one. My younger brother, Gabriel, was only sixteen at the time and depended on me to raise him the rest of the way to adulthood. That was five years ago. He’s now as old as I was when I lost mother, and now he’s lost me too.”

“You’ve never told me about your life before you came to this island, came to _me._ What’s your brother like?” the naga quietly asked.

“ _Oh_ he’s a _brute,”_ the blonde groaned. “I did my best to teach him to be a proper gentleman but he prefers strutting about like he’s the cock-of-the-walk. It drives Anathema _crazy.”_

“Who’s Anathema?”

Ezra smiled. “She was my best friend before I arrived here. We met in high school and ended up enrolled in the same university. I went on to graduate with an English degree to pursue a writing career and _she_ actually dropped out a year or two after enrollment to open her own occult items store called ‘Witch’s Whimzy’. Turns out she’s got quite the head for business and her shop is booming.”

“You write books? What do you write?” Crowley asked.

“Romantic Fiction. My most recent work was _The Mermaid’s Tale_ and it sold one million copies recently! That’s the whole reason I ended up on this island. My brother threw a celebration on a boat, and I fell over. Quite clumsy of me, really,” Ezra replied.

“I don’t really read much. I _can,_ don’t get me wrong, it’s just kind of boring,” Crowley whined. “Not a lot of books survive being jettisoned, but the ones that did had a water-tight container. I think I’ve got at least a box or two. Do you want them?”

Ezra sat bolt upright fast enough to send sand flying.

“Really? I can have them?” he asked, eyes alight with child-like excitement.

“Of course, angel. You don’t have to ask me. Everything in the salvage room is just as much yours as it is mine,” Crowley answered with tender honesty in his voice.

Ezra shrieked like a person whose long-term partner just got down on one knee with an engagement ring and flung himself atop Crowley to squeeze the naga in an embrace that would have given Rose a run for her money. “Thankyouthankyou _thankyou,_ my dear! I’ve missed reading like you wouldn’t _believe.”_

Crowley hugged him back with a teasingly raised eyebrow. “Oh I think I have _some_ idea of how much you missed it.”

“Don’t you start ridiculing me, mister!”

“Angel, I would _never,”_ the naga taunted in a falsetto voice.

Ezra “hmph”-ed and lifted himself up enough to where he could smile warmly down at his friend from where he was perched atop the naga’s hips.

“I mean it, though, Crowley. _Thank you,”_ he stressed.

“I mean it too when I say ‘anything for you, angel’. I’d take you to your mother’s stars, if I could,”

“I know you would, dear,” Ezra whispered.

He lowered his chest down to Crowley’s and captured his mouth in a slow kiss.

“Sssssaid I didn’t _need_ ‘thank you’ kisses,” the naga objected, his words muffled and distorted against Ezra’s mouth.

“This isn’t one,” Ezra said, and it earned him a surprised noise. “I’m giving you a kiss because you just… you make me _so happy.”_

And it was true. Ezra _was_ happy. Happier than he ever thought he’d be, considering where he was and who he was with. Though that treacherous guilt gnawed at his thoughts constantly, it was getting harder and harder for him to be properly motivated by it. 

Every single moment that went by, he was tempted more and more to simply throw his hands up in (not miserable) defeat and just accept his new life as Crowley’s mate. Gabriel and Anathema most likely thought he was dead, so coming back would be quite the shock. No rescue had ever come, so it was clear that nobody had any idea where to look for him. 

Ezra knew that Crowley would keep him safe and happy, despite him missing the comforts of his old life back in London like Sushi and his flat and the sounds of Strauss piping through his car’s radio…

_Radio, Ezra! You can leave if you just find a_ **_radio!,_** the bitter voice in his head screamed.

_And what if I_ _**don’t** find a radio, hm? What if Crowley doesn’t have one? _

The voice didn’t have an answer for him, Ezra observed with smug satisfaction.

_I will_ _**not** have you spoiling my lovely evening with your constant prattling about what I should and should not do. _

The voice retreated back into his psyche and Ezra dove into the kiss with wild abandon. He was riding the high of successfully willing away his negative thoughts, opening his mouth for Crowley to plunder it with his tongue.

The naga quickly changed their positions, flipping Ezra onto his back to pin him to the sand.

“You make me so happy too, angel. Happier than I’ve _ever_ been,” he murmured against the skin of the blonde’s throat.

“Oh, _Crowley!”_

Ezra wrapped his arms around his friend’s shoulders and embraced him tightly. Crowley’s admission had made him giddy, almost as much as the books had.

No other kisses were exchanged that night in favor of simply lying tangled together in the sand and watching the moon rise.

Together

***~*~*~*~***

**8 Days Later**

It had taken Captain Medina just over a week to get the clearance necessary for him and his men to sweep the island, with the stipulation being that they only had 24 hours to do it.

Gabriel had emphatically protested the condition until Anathema gently reminded him that one day was better than not being able to go at _all._

“Yeah!” Newt, who was quickly becoming a friend, emphasized. “Plus, they’ll have trained professionals, high-tech searching equipment, and weapons to defend themselves! Ezra’s in no safer hands!”

Gabriel had felt marginally better at the mention of “weapons” (the image of the monster reputed to haunt the island was still fresh in his mind, despite his overall skepticism of its existence). 

Anathema swept out of Gabriel’s kitchen holding aloft a bottle of wine and three glasses.

“I say Ezra’s as good as found! So let’s just kick back, have a drink because we’ve earned it, and spend these next 24 hours binging Bollywood movies!” she declared with all the panache of a conquering hero.

Newt whooped, but Gabriel just hummed.

He didn’t want to get his hopes completely up just yet. If there _was_ a murderous creature loose on the island, then Medina’s team would be in for the fight of their lives...

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra was cozied up in their nest, _just_ about to get to the good part in his book, when Crowley burst into the room looking wild-eyed and frantic. He looked as he did the day of the hurricane, glowing eyes, fangs and all. _This time,_ however, the scales had spread _entirely_ from his lower half to cover the skin of his human half all the way over his face to where his hair joined his scalp.

“Crowley? What’s going on?” Ezra asked.

“We need to go, angel, _now!”_

“‘Go’? Go where? You aren’t making any sense!”

Crowley slithered forward as fast as a cobra strike and pulled Ezra to his feet. “I _promise_ to explain everything soon, but we _need_ to get out of here! There’s… something’s coming.”

“What do you mean ‘something’s coming’? Tell me what’s happening!”

Crowley’s eyes burned like yellow fire in the comparatively dim light of their nest. He started dragging Ezra froward “Come _on,_ angel! _Now!”_

Whatever was coming, it was clear that Crowley was terrified. Ezra didn’t know what it was that could make his friend act like it was Armaggeddon, but he didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.

The human put his arms around Crowley’s neck, who promptly lifted him up. “Alright, dear, let’s go.”

“Thank you, angel. _Thank you._ The nest isn’t a safe place to be right now, so I’m going to take you somewhere that _is,”_

Crowley ended up bringing him to the rockpool, explaining that there was an underwater tunnel inside that opened into a small cave system in a pocket of air.

“Hold your breath. It’s a bit of a swim,”

Ezra did so, and the two of them plunged into the water. Crowley dove down a few meters to where a hole big enough for two to stand abreast appeared. His thick tail powered them through the claustrophobic tunnel in record time and Ezra was soon gasping for breath on dry ground inside the underwater cave.

“Okay,” he panted, wicking water out of his eyes. “We’re safe. Now will you _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

“I will when I get back,”

“Wait, _what?!”_ Ezra grabbed his hands to keep him from leaving. “Where are you going?”

Crowley gently freed himself.

“I have to drive them off,” he said. “They never leave, otherwise, and just destroy and kill everything in their path.”

“What does? What’s out there?”

The glow in Crowley’s eyes brightened in its intensity.

“Monsters,”

Then he was splashing back into the water before Ezra could stop him.

***~*~*~*~***

1Ezra had won the contest, but only because Gabriel ended up tripping into an open manhole and Anathema had gotten arrested for public indecency before she even got the chance to run.[return to text]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick heads up for those who don't know, I wrote a porny one-shot featuring Crowley and Ezra from this AU. It's the second work in this series, and is spoiler-free!


	8. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley doesn't understand why the "monsters" are here and makes a decision that will have far-reaching consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how the ranks of the Coast Guard operate for other countries, so I based Captain Medina's team around the U.S. Coast Guard's ranks with one of the lower ones, right above Seaman Recruit, being Seaman Apprentice.

Captain Carlos Medina stepped onto the beach and triple-checked his gear.

_ Ropes, Harness, Straps, Pulleys, Hooks, Supply Pack, Radio, Torch… Check, check, and check... _

Behind him he heard Seaman Apprentice Cassidy, one of the nine other members of his squadron, utter a panicked squawk.

“C-captain, sir, there’s a crab here! It won’t stop trying to  _ pinch me _ !”

Medina groaned and turned, ready to lecture the youngest member on what constituted  _ real  _ threats, when he saw the young man punt the crustacean into the ocean with the tip of his boot.

“For  _ fuck’s sake _ , Cassidy! Have some respect for the wildlife!” Medina snarled and cuffed the boy over his head. “Last thing we need is to get in trouble because  _ you  _ couldn’t stop messing with Sebastian there!”

“S-sorry, Captain!”

_ Not even 10 minutes into this mission and I’m already regretting it… _

“Captain, sir! I think I found something!”

Further up the beach, close to the treeline, Apprentice Sidra was crouched beside an orange clump. Medina came up next to her.

“What are we looking at, Sidra?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The woman closed her hands around the thing and wrenched it out from where it was practically buried in the sand. “It’s… it’s an old life jacket.”

Medina took it from her to check for a serial tag. If the number on it matched the one that Ezra had been wearing when he went overboard, it would be definitive  _ proof  _ that the man was on the island!

Sure enough, the numbers stitched into the inside collar matched the life vest Captain Newton had reported missing from his boat!

“We have confirmation that Ezra Fell was here!” Medina said loud enough for the rest of his squad to hear.

The other seven of them crowded around the life jacket to gawk at it. “Do you think he’s still… you know?” one of them asked.

“Only one way to find out…”

Medina withdrew his pistol, flicked the safety off, then tucked it back into its holster. “Alright, Apprentices, listen up! This place is known to have dangerous predators so we go quickly, but carefully. Don’t have your weapons at-ready, but  _ do  _ keep the safeties off. Fan out and search the area, but remain within sight and shouting distance, am I clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!”

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley watched the entire exchange from the beach.

_ Humans. _

With the exception of his Angel, it had been a long,  _ long  _ time since he’d last laid eyes on a human. As soon as he saw them making landfall on their strange, metallic boats, Crowley began making a plan to frighten them off.

Maybe some good old fashioned monster noises? A terrifying glare from beyond the shadows? Throwing things and stealing stuff usually worked…

And then one of them had said the name “Ezra Fell” and all of Crowley’s plans for simply driving them away went clean out the window.

These  _ monsters  _ were here to take his Angel away!

From his perch high above, concealed in the branches of the trees still standing, he uttered a low, threatening growl.

“Sonofabitch! Did you hear that?!” the one called “Cassidy” yelped.

Cassidy whipped out some kind of black object from the pouch at his side and pointed it wildly between the trees.

“What the  _ fuck  _ did I just say about pistols at-ready?! Put that away!” the man who was called “Captain” yelled.

Cassidy’s hands visibly trembled, but he complied sheepishly.

“S-sorry, Captain,” he whimpered.

Crowley cocked his head. The blocky weapons didn’t look like pistols, at least, not the ones  _ he’d  _ used before…

_ Gonna need to be careful with the twitchy one… twitchy is dangerous. _

There were seven others besides Captain and Cassidy. They looked disciplined enough, but Crowley could handle discipline. He’d handled worse.

He bunched up his tail and used it to propel his body into another tree with a rattling crash, sending twigs and leaves scattering to the floor below. All ten members of the group looked up, but Crowley was already safely concealed out of sight by the thick boughs.

“I swear there’s something out there!” Cassidy exclaimed.

“It’s probably just a monkey or something,” the human that was Sidra scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

Captain was remaining silent, but Crowley could see the tense lines in his shoulders.

_ That one... he doesn’t startle easily. May have combat experience… should also watch out for him… _

Finally Captain deigned to speak. “Look, everybody, the sooner we find Fell and bring him home, the sooner we  _ all  _ can go home too.”

Crowley hissed loudly at that.

_ This  _ is  _ his home! _

All of the humans, save for Captain, flinched at the sound of Crowley’s furious hissing.

“Oh  _ fuck me!” _ Sidra shrieked as the last echoes of it faded. “That sounds like one  _ fucking huge snake!” _

“Steady on, people. We’re not leaving until we get what we came here for,” Captain said.

Crowley slid down the trunk with a near inaudible rasp to lower himself to ground level.

_ Of  _ course  _ they won’t leave. Bloody monsters coming here to  _ take _ … that’s  _ all  _ they do! They take and destroy and- and- _

And he wasn’t going to let them take his Angel too.

Crowley crouched low, every muscle in his body ready to spring. He felt the venom dribble from his elongated fangs to sizzle in the soft earth below. He could hear every one of their heartbeats, and smell the sweat and  _ fear  _ that radiated off them. He let his tongue flit out; not to smell it, but to  _ taste  _ it.

Crowley had to be  _ patient,  _ however. If he tried to take on all ten humans at once, he ran the risk of injury. No, he just needed to wait until they separated enough to be picked off one by one…

He didn’t have to wait long.

*~*~*~*~*

Medina was running towards the screams before he even knew what was causing them.

“Hang on, I’m coming!”

The screams were immediately cut off with a choked gurgle and as he came upon the scene, he could understand why.

One of the Apprentices, Hua, was being crushed to death by some kind of snake-like abomination!

The creature was covered in shiny black scales from tail to… torso?!

The upper half of the creature looked  _ almost  _ human, were it not for the veneer of scales on every inch of skin and the glaring yellow eyes.

Medina lifted his pistol, aimed directly for the coils encircling the poor Apprentice, and unloaded the entire clip.

To his horror, the bullets ricocheted off the armor-like scales. The sharp retort of the gun, however, was enough to startle the creature who dropped Hua to the dirt before disappearing into the undergrowth.

“Backup! I need backup, here!” Medina shouted as an apprentice close enough to hear Hua’s previous screams came running. 

“I saw what happened!” gasped Sidra. “Was  _ that  _ what we heard earlier?”

“No doubt. I scared it off for now but we need to get Hua-”

Another scream ripped through the air. Medina scrambled back to his feet. “Sidra, get Hua back to the transport! Take anyone else you can with you, that’s an order!”

Sidra nodded and helped Hua to stand, who groaned at the pain of doing so, while Medina took off after the creature.

He found it pressing Cassidy face-first into the dirt with a hand between his shoulder blades. Caddisy was sobbing and squirming to get away as the creature lowered its fang-filled mouth to bite.

Medina was out of ammunition (he’d only ever needed the one clip!) so he acted on an impulse…

...and spiked his empty pistol at the monster’s head.

His aim was true and the gun thunked off the creature’s temple with a sound like metal hitting plastic. It clapped its hands to the side of its head and howled. Cassidy took advantage of his newly freed state to roll onto his back and pump every round of his pistol into the scaly chest above him.

The bullets didn’t bounce away, but neither did they sink deep enough into flesh to cause any  _ real  _ damage. The monster rippled his body and the projectiles popped out.

“It’s like he’s covered in  _ kevlar!” _ shrieked Cassidy as he crab-shuffled backwards. 

Medina seized his wrist and yanked him upright with one hand while he drew his knife with the other.

“Hua’s injured,” the Captain explained hastily. “Grab everyone and get back to the transport. I'll hold it off as long as I can!”

“But Captain-!”

“I said  _ go,  _ Cassidy!”   
Medina’s eyes never left his opponent as the two of them circled each other, but he could hear Cassidy running off to carry out his orders. 

“Come on, you big, ugly bastard… just keep your eyes on me… ignore the others… just keep looking at me...”

The monster blinked in surprise, then started  _ laughing _ . “Do you really think you’ll be able to protect  _ any  _ of them, Captain?”

Medina’s arms went limp at his side at the same time his jaw did. His knife dangled from numb fingers.

“You… you can speak?” he mumbled.

“I can do  _ so much more than that,  _ human,” The monster chuckled again. It struck forward, gripping Medina by his shirtfront and hoisting him up into the air. “You  _ creatures  _ are all the same…”

The human slashed with his knife, dragging the blade along the monster’s inner arm but it just sent up a hail of sparks like it was scraping across iron.

“You just  _ take and take,  _ but it’s never enough. You  _ threaten,  _ you  _ murder,  _ you  _ abandon- _ ” it took a shaky breath. “I know what you and your men are here for. Your kind already ruined my life once; took  _ everything  _ from me. I  _ won’t  _ let it happen again!”

Medina, for the first time since enlisting in active service was well and truly frightened. He was determined, however, to buy his Apprentices the time to escape.

“If… if you know why we’re here, then you know we can’t leave without Ezra,”

It was a bluff. Medina and his crew were under no obligation (legal or otherwise) to remain, but he kept talking in the hopes that the monster didn’t know that. Maybe it would even tell them where Ezra could be found and everyone could walk away from this encounter with their spines intact.

Medina gathered up his courage, and locked gazes with the beast.

It froze.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Angel eyes. _

This close, Crowley could see that Captain’s eyes were almost the exact same shade of blue as his Angel’s. There were a few, subtle differences but the similarities were enough to send the naga reeling. While Captain’s were the icy color of the sky, his Angel’s were more like sunlight trickling through ocean waves.

Crowley saw his reflection in those eyes, and imagined he was looking at himself through the Angel’s instead.

He imagined his chosen mate looking at him with those same wide, terrified eyes.

It didn’t feel good.

“J-just tell us where Ezra is, and we’ll leave. We don’t want anything of yours, just him,” Captain told him.

_ He  _ is  _ mine! And I’m his! _

Crowley yanked the struggling human forward until they were practically nose-to-nose.

“Ezra Fell issssss  _ dead _ . I crushed his bones…” He gripped Captain’s shirt tighter. “...tore his eyes out with my  _ teeth _ …” He flashed a fang. “...and  _ drank  _ his blood.” His tongue licked at the corners of his mouth. “There’s not even enough of him left to  _ bury.” _

Captain moaned in horror and Crowley relinquished his hold, dropping the human who landed in a crumpled heap.

“Y-you…  _ demon!” _ the smaller being spat.

Crowley went on, unbothered by the petty insult. “Go back to whoever sent you and let them know Ezra won’t be coming back.”

“What should I tell them, huh? That a monster killed him? They’ll just send more humans after you in retaliation until  _ you’re  _ dead too!”

Crowley crouched down to be as close to eye level with Captain as he could.

“No one will believe you,”

The human jolted, eyes wide in shock. Crowley continued, “So, Captain, I would suggest you come up with a  _ convincing  _ excuse.”

The naga didn’t stick around to see if his words were heeded.

He already knew they were by the sound of Captain’s panicked, retreating footfalls.

*~*~*~*~*

Sidra tentatively approached Captain Medina, who was standing on the deck of the transport ship watching the hellish island fade into the distance. “Captain, sir, Hua is stable. He’ll still need immediate medical attention once we arrive back in port, however.”

The only sign that he heard her was an acknowledging grunt.

Sidra knew she should take it as a dismissal, but she’d never been one to sit idly by when something didn’t sit right with her. “What happened back there, sir? What was that thing?”

Medina shuddered. He could already tell he’d have nightmares for months, if not years, to come. “A monster, Apprentice.”

Sidra nodded weakly, but didn’t seem mollified by the answer. In fact, it just seemed to rile her up further. “It killed Ezra?”

“Yes,”

“Then shouldn’t we  _ call  _ someone? The Winchesters or- or maybe glass this whole damned place from orbit, or-”

“Tell me, Apprentice, did you take a picture of the monster? A video? Any kind of recording?”

Sidra was struck dumb by her Captain’s sudden digression, but she answered honestly.

“N-no, sir. None of us did,” she admitted.

Medina finally looked at her. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were haunted.

He thought of Chinese merchant ships and a body with sky-blue eyes dangling from a homemade noose.

“Then no one will believe you,”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was now worried.

Well, scratch that, he’d  _ been  _ worried ever since Crowley disappeared into the water, but now he was  _ double-worried _ . Maybe even  _ triple! _

At first, he was just concerned for his friend’s general safety. What kind of monsters were out there? Was Crowley at risk of being killed by them? 

Then Ezra began to worry about  _ himself _ , too. What if Crowley  _ had  _ been killed? How was he going to get out of this cave? He couldn’t swim the distance to the surface alone and he didn’t fancy a slow death by starvation in an underwater cave, or a traumatic one from drowning as he tried to make a break for the surface.

So now he sat at the edge of the water, watching, waiting.

Worrying.

Then he saw movement under the water and scrambled back away from the ledge. Was it Crowley? Or one of the monsters?

He was answered by a mop of sodden red hair breaking the surface with a gasp.

“Crowley!”

The naga dragged his bruised and battered body out of the water onto the cave floor next to Ezra.

“H-hey, angel… m’back…” he panted.

Crowley’s “normal” form had returned, and Ezra could see signs of a fight all over his body. Some of the scales on his tail were cracked, but otherwise unharmed, though it probably smarted. His chest was covered in a litany of bruises shaped like circles with a few of them dripping blood from small, shallow holes. His left temple had a red, angry bump on it like he’d hit his head on something.

“Ohmygoodness! What happened?! Are you alright?! Of course you’re not alright, just look at the  _ state  _ of you-” Ezra babbled.

“Angel, I’m  _ fine _ ,” Crowley told him with a faintly proud smile as he held out a hand for the human to take. “I scared ‘em off.”

Ezra took the hand and kissed the back of it. “What  _ were  _ they? What did they want? Did they try to- to eat you or something? How often do they come here?!” he fretted.

“They’re the  _ worst  _ kind of monsters I’ve ever met. They had strange weapons I’ve never seen before and they come to this island to  _ take _ . This was the first time I’ve seen them in a  _ long time _ , but…” Crowley exhaled unsteadily and used his free hand to caress the other’s face. “...but this time they came for  _ you _ .”

Ezra whimpered.

“M-me? What did they want with  _ me _ ?!”

Crowley pushed himself into a sitting position and groaned. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. I knew they were here to steal you, and they said as much, but they never told me why. Don’t worry. I was never going to let them have you.”

Ezra carefully hugged Crowley, taking caution to not agitate his wounds.

“Thank you, my dear, for risking your life; for not letting them hurt me,”

Crowley embraced him back fiercely, ignoring the throbbing pain on his chest as he did so. “I would  _ never  _ let anything hurt you.”

*~*~*~*~*

Later, as his injuries were cleaned out under his Angel’s gentle ministrations, Crowley decided he wouldn’t tell him about the invaders being humans.

His Angel couldn’t help being one, and Crowley knew that his sweet love would feel terribly guilty for belonging to a race of creatures with such destructive tendencies; worse, he might even blame himself!

_ No,  _ Crowley thought.  _ I won’t tell him. It will hurt him less if he doesn’t know. _

*~*~*~*~*

The sounds of “ _ Sholay”  _ piped from the television in Gabriel’s living room, but none of the three humans gathered around it were conscious of them. Even when Gabbar Singh blew away three bandits with three expertly-timed shots, nobody in the present moved.

Ezra was dead.

Anathema sat on the couch wedged between Newt and Gabriel, each of them silent in their own grief. She felt… lost. Not even a day ago she had hope that her best friend would be returned to her alive, if a little worse for wear. Now, however, there was nothing but Captain Medina’s trembling admission that Ezra would never be coming home; that there wasn’t even enough left of his body to bring back.

Her friend’s corpse was left on a haunted island mouldering in the tropical sun without even the dignity of a proper burial or cremation.

Anathema’s stomach curdled at the thought and she covered her mouth to keep from gagging.

To her right, Newt was staring at his hands which were fidgeting ceaselessly. It didn’t take a witch’s powers to tell that he felt immense guilt for being the boat captain to lose him in the first place.

Anathema refused to let him feel that way, however, and looped her arm around his shoulder in a comforting gesture. Newt leaned into her, gladly, and she extended her other arm towards Gabriel to bring him in too.

Instead, the younger Fell brother rose in stiff, jerky movements. His once-blue eyes were rimmed with so much red that the irises looked practically purple. Every muscle in his body was locked so rigid that he trembled slightly from the force of it.

“Gabriel…” Anathema whispered loud enough for him to hear over the TV, trying to get him to come back.

“I need some air,” he murmured, and made for the door.

Anathema knew she should follow him to make sure he wasn’t about to do something dangerous or self-destructive. 

The weight of her own grief, however, kept her bound to the couch as surely as if there were leaden rings around her ankles. She tried calling for Gabriel one more time, but he didn’t look back as he slammed the door behind him.

Anathema finally gave herself over to the crushing pressure of loss and wailed her sorrow to the stillness of the room. She pushed her glasses off her face to keep from cracking the lenses as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes like that would, somehow, make the tears stop.

Newt, now no longer encircled by the protection of her arms, rose to stand.

“Is… is there anything I can do for either of you? Do you want me to get you a coffee or do you want to be left alone or something else?” he ventured to ask.

Anathema gave him a wobbly smile that was trying too hard to look grateful.

“N-no, Newt. I’m fine for now, but… could you go after Gabe? Just keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,”

Newt nodded and went to follow Gabriel. Standing on the threshold, in the open doorway, he said over his shoulder, “I’m still gonna get you a drink. Chai Latte with extra cinnamon sound good?”

Anathema’s smile, against all odds, widened just a bit.

*~*~*~*~*

That night, as Ezra lay curled up with Crowley in their nest, he ventured to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind for the better part of the afternoon.

“Crowley, my dear…” he began and rolled over onto his side, looking at the dozing naga beside him.

“Hm?”

Crowley hadn’t opened his eyes or moved from where he was on his back with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Earlier, before you brought me to the hidden cave in the rockpool, you said that ‘something was coming’. How did you know that the monsters were on their way?” was Ezra’s soft inquiry. “Is there a sort of ‘preemptive warning signal’ I should be aware of in case it happens again?”

Crowley finally opened his eyes to look at the concerned face beside him.

“It’s… the  _ island  _ tells me when things are happening,” Crowley murmured, unable to phrase it better.

“The island? It talks to you?”

Crowley waved his hand through the air in a general, all-encompassing gesture. 

“It doesn’t  _ literally  _ talk to me, it just… I can’t really describe it unless you’ve done it yourself. Sometimes there’s a shifting in the wind, or a smell I’ve never smelled before, or even a sound just on the edge of my hearing,” he explained to the human.

Ezra frowned. He had more questions than answers now.

“Does it only happen when the monsters show up?”

Crowley nodded. 

“I’ve never been forewarned about hurricanes or other disasters. Probably because those are  _ natural,  _ and the monsters who come here are anything but,” he said.

Ezra shuddered. The monsters he pictured all had long, frightful talons and sharp teeth for rending and tearing. Maybe they were covered in feathers, like some massive bird of prey; it made perfect sense for them to be like that, if a giant snake was afraid of them.

He was so thankful that Crowley had protected him from them, and let him know so with a delicate peck to the naga’s shoulder.

Then he asked another question that had just occurred to him.

“I know I’m not one of those monsters, but did the island tell you  _ I  _ was coming?” Ezra wanted to know.

Crowley’s expression, previously thunderous, melted into a look of warmth.

“It did,”

Ezra slowly scooted a bit forward so he could rest his head on the redhead’s shoulder. He reached out and twirled a lock of Crowley’s hair around his finger; not as a way of getting attention, but simply for the emotional intimacy of it.

“What did it feel like?” the human whispered and looked up at the crystal-studded ceiling of their nest.

Crowley closed his eyes, remembering the sensation.

“The first thing I felt was a lurching in my chest, like someone had tied a string around my heart and yanked on it. Thought I was dying for a solid minute before the rest happened. Then, the wind around me moved and it carried with it the sounds of singing, the beating of enormous wings, church bells, and children’s laughter,” he chuckled. “I scented the air and it smelled like flowers not native to this place, and tasted like cocoa beans but sweeter. I found you washed up on shore shortly thereafter.”

Ezra had to blink rapidly to keep his tears from showing just how affected by Crowley’s words he really was.

“That… you got all that from me?”

“I got  _ so much more  _ than that from you, angel,” Crowley said, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

He curled his tail around Ezra’s legs and brought him somehow even closer. One arm came around his shoulders. “I got more than I ever thought I’d deserve.”


	9. Ezra's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Anathema have a funeral and Ezra, meanwhile, makes his choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gladiolus flower comes from the Roman word for sword, "Gladius", because of its pointed length. When given, they typically symbolize strength of character and courage and purple, in particular, represents nobility. Therefore, a Purple Gladiolus = "Strong, brave, noble person"
> 
> ALSO WE FINALLY GET TO THE SMUT! Starts at "...began kissing the mark again." and carries until the end of the chapter.

**2 Weeks Later**

It was sunny the day of Ezra’s funeral.

The sky was cloudless, the weather was unseasonably mild, and even birds twittered from where they perched outside the church’s stained glass windows.

_It shouldn’t be like this. It should be dark and rainy and cold. Isn’t that how it always is in the movies?,_ Gabriel thought bitterly from his seat in the first row of pews.

An angry, selfish part of him was _furious_ that the world _dared_ to keep turning and being beautiful while his brother was no longer in it. 

_He would have loved the weather today. He should have been here to see it._

There had been an outpouring of support on social media for the beloved author’s passing, and gifts from heartbroken fans and well-wishers alike were constantly finding their way to Gabriel’s door.

_I have too many Teddy Bears. What the_ fuck _am I supposed to do with_ thirty fucking bears?!

The service had been solemn and brief, with only closest friends and family allowed to attend. With no actual _body_ present, the attendees simply placed photographs and handwritten letters into a small box to be symbolically burned instead.

Anathema had stood at the altar and gave a speech about how much she loved Ezra and would miss him, only to practically collapse halfway through from sorrow and need to be brought back to her seat by a concerned Newt.

Gabriel hadn’t given any speech.

He sat hunched over in the pew in his clean-pressed black suit just staring at the box of paper that would have to substitute for the cremation that Ezra would never get.

_It isn’t right, just leaving him there. He wanted to be scattered in the countryside, not simply be left where he had fallen._

Captain Medina hadn’t given any details about Ezra’s death beyond “animal attack”. Gabriel sort of wished he’d had. At least then he would _know_ the state of his brother’s body and not be constantly tormented by worsening visions of the state it was in.

_‘Nothing left to retrieve’ was what Medina told me. Can’t imagine it looks too good then…_

The Captain in question was currently making his way down the aisle to add a pressed and dried stalk of dried purple Gladiolus to the cremation box.

_What had Ezra said about those flowers? Something about swords and strength?_

Gabriel deeply regretted not paying closer attention to his older brother’s interests. He’d give _anything_ to have Ezra back, expounding on Victorian Flower Language.

Medina was dressed to the nines in his crisp white uniform, doffing his hat as he walked back down the aisle to stop at Gabriel’s pew.

It had been Anathema who extended Ezra's funeral invitation to Medina. She felt that, considering how shaken up Medina had sounded on the phone while informing them of Ezra’s death, the man should be allowed a bit of closure himself. Gabriel hadn’t objected; he’d fallen too deep into a dark pit of his own emotions to protest anything anymore.

“You know I… I bought and read one of your brother’s books recently. Not ‘ _A Mermaid’s Tale_ ’ but his first, ‘ _Glass Bones and Paper Skin’_ ,” Medina twisted his cap in his hands. “I really enjoyed it.”

Gabriel just “hmm”-ed.

“ _Glass Bones and Paper Skin_ ” had been Ezra’s first attempt at fiction and ended in commercial failure, save for a few die-hard Fell Fans who considered it to be somewhat of a cult classic. Gabriel had hated it, though he never told Ezra, and Anathema had called it a “unique take on post-apocalyptic Edwardian society fiction”. If Medina enjoyed it… well…

There’s no accounting for some people’s taste.

Medina placed his now slightly crumpled hat atop his head. “I think we could have been good friends, had I met him. Ezra and I, I mean.”

Gabriel arched a single, perfectly-groomed eyebrow.

“Yeah. He would have liked you too,”

Gabriel was thankful that Medina didn’t try to ply him with empty platitudes like “I’m sorry for your loss” or “he’s in a better place”. Those were bad enough coming from busybodies like Ezra’s neighbor Tracy, who kept trying to push home-cooked meals on him. Medina simply nodded his thanks and returned to his seat.

Gabriel turned flat, unseeing eyes back to the cremation box as the last discordant notes of “Nearer my God, to Thee” rang out from the chapel’s speakers.

*~*~*~*~*

“ _Aaaaangeeeel!”_

Ezra heard Crowley calling from inside the salvage room and came out of their nest to investigate.

The human frowned in concern when he saw his friend standing in the middle of the room with his hands folded behind his back, as if hiding something. “Is everything alright, dear? You haven’t accidentally got your hands stuck in one of those fingertrap toys from the ‘Igloo’ crate again, have you?”

Crowley grumbled in embarrassment, but shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “I have a surprise for you! It was the only one, unfortunately…”

Now Ezra’s curiosity was piqued. He took a step closer to try and peer around his friend’s back.

“What is it then?” the human asked.

Crowley shimmied in place, then presented his hands with a flourish.

For a minute, Ezra wasn’t certain what he was looking at, but then the realization of the object’s true nature slammed into him.

A _radio_!

It was a small, grey number able to be held in one hand with speakers on the front and so many fiddly little buttons and knobs that at least _one_ of them had to be able to send a signal somehow! Sure enough, there appeared to be a square microphone for speaking into attached to the side by a long, curly cord.

Ezra’s hands trembled as he took it from Crowley. Did it even work? Was it still usable? 

He popped open the panel on the back and peered inside. The batteries were a little old, but otherwise in good shape. 

Ezra closed the panel and, experimentally, flicked the “On” switch.

There was a bit of static as the antenna sought out a workable signal, but once it did, faint strums of some waltz came piping out of the speakers. 

Ezra could have _wept_ with relief!

He had a working radio! He could send out a signal! He could go _home!_

“Now we can have music for our courtship dances!” Crowley cried out in excitement.

Ezra’s thoughts of “rescue” ground to a screeching halt.

_Ah, yes. Crowley. I’d almost forgotten…_

“Still insisting on courting me, eh fiend?” he chuckled, managing to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“I’ll wait 6,000 years if I have to! I will _never_ stop trying to court you until you consent to be my mate,” Crowley crooked a finger under Ezra’s chin and lifted his face to look at him. “Or until you tell me to stop.”

Crowley’s face was completely serious. Ezra searched his eyes for any sign of teasing or joking, but found only true, unbridled sincerity. The redhead really _was_ prepared to wait as long as it took. Ezra didn’t feel like he deserved it…

He looked down at the radio gripped in his hands tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

All it would take was _one_ message.

One moment alone to send it, and then he’d be free…

He couldn’t do it.

_I can’t leave him…_

_I..._

_...I love him._

There were no angels blaring trumpets at his mental declaration. No deity descending from the skies bearing a banner declaring “ _No shit, Sherlock!”._ There wasn’t even so much as a twinge of panic.

No, the realization settled into Ezra’s bones with a kind of familiar warmth like sipping on hot cocoa, or a shot of the finest whiskey. Quite frankly, he felt a little lightheaded as if he _had_ just had a drink or two.

_As lovely as your epiphany is, it doesn’t solve your problem. What about your family? Are you really going to just leave them wondering what happened to you? You can’t take a five meter snake-man with you, so don’t bother thinking you can just bustle him up in a suitcase and smuggle him back to Soho!_ The bitter voice screamed.

Something inside Ezra snapped.

_I’ve had quite enough of you! I know I can’t take Crowley with me, but_ _it's not like I can just ring up my family and let them know I'm okay!_

_But you can…_

The third voice, the gentle one from days before, titled Ezra’s perception of things on its head. He ran a thumb over the radio’s buttons.

_I… I_ could _call them. Or at least_ radio _them. I could tell them I’m alive, that I’m_ safe _! Maybe they could even visit… oh, but I’d have to warn them about Crowley…_

Ezra suddenly felt suffused with a bright, nebulous joy that shone openly on his face. It could _work_! He could put out a signal, inform whoever answered who he was, and explain that he was quite alright and to please help him get in touch with Gabriel or Anathema. 

He could have his love, _and_ his family!

Ezra was so giddy with his plan, that he almost didn’t notice how long Crowley had been standing there in silence. When he returned to reality, the naga wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing on fiddling with the end of his tail.

“Do you want me to stop?” he mumbled and Ezra blinked.

“Stop what, dear?”

“You know… stop courting you?” Crowley managed to reply around the obvious pain saying the words caused him.

“What? _No!_ ” Ezra’s voice cracked and he would have felt embarrassed were he not so desperate to get his answer out. 

Crowley’s shoulders slumped, relieved.

“That’s good. I like courting you,” he admitted.

“Will you continue doing so? Even after I’ve accepted your courtship attempts and we become mates?” Ezra slinked forward. “Will you continue to woo me?”

“If you’d allow me, I’d woo you until the end of time,”

Ezra moved forward until he and his soon-to-be paramour were practically chest to chest.

“That’s good, because you don’t need to bother trying to convince me to be your mate anymore,” he breathed.

He set the radio aside and Crowley watched him do so with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Ezra straightened up and took both of the redhead’s hands in his. He took a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to say next.

_This is it, Ezra.Do _ not _mess this up like you did playing Joseph! [1] You can still back out if you want… _

_...I don’t._

In a voice that was steady, with not a hint of fear at doing so, Ezra said, “Crowley, my dear, _dear_ serpent and protector… I accept your courtship. I would love _nothing_ more than to be mated to you.”

At first, nothing happened. Crowley had simply gone very, _very_ still.

Then, his pupils dilated a fraction of a centimeter, and his breathing picked up. His next words were shaky.

“You… you mean it?” he whimpered. “You want me?”

Ezra freed one of his hands to tuck a lock of hair behind his darling’s ear.

“I don’t _just_ want you, Crowley. I _love_ you. Completely, irretrievably, and irrevocably. I am yours for all of our days and beyond, if you’ll have me,” the human whispered.

A single tear rolled down Crowley’s cheek and then his lips were upon Ezra’s. The human felt a tongue press into his eager mouth.

“I love you too, angel. I _do_ want you for all of your mortal days, never _ever_ doubt that,” Crowely stressed when they came up for air. “‘Doubt the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar, but _never_ doubt I love.”

Ezra made a tiny noise like the sound of a kitten’s mewling.

“You _did_ read Hamlet,” the human gasped sharply, with no small amount of delight.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t stop bothering me until I did,” Crowley grumbled with a roll of his eyes. “In all seriousness, though, I read it because _you_ loved it. I’d read every book if you asked.”

Ezra rested his head against Crowley’s shoulder. He was overwhelmed with so many new, exciting emotions that he wasn’t sure what to do next! It was a whole new world Ezra found himself in and it was one he was eager to explore!

The tanned fingers around his arms twitched as he stood on his tiptoes to nibble at Crowley’s neck. The naga closed his eyes and moaned unrestrained.

“Is there a special ritual to becoming mates? A mark or a claim or something?” Ezra asked.

Fangs grazed his throat and he shivered deliciously at the thought of necking like a couple of silly teenagers.

“Not… not really,” Crowley whispered, sounding strained. “I can _give_ you a mark, if you want. A scar maybe - not anything that will hurt! - or a bit of venom in a shallow bite to permanently darken the skin like a tattoo? It won’t do anything else besides that in such a tiny dose.”

Ezra embraced Crowley a bit tighter, then stole a quick, soft kiss.

“Th… the tattoo… will it hurt?”

The naga cupped his face. “The bite might at first, but the venom shouldn’t. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never done this before with any of the other humans I’ve been with.”

“There were other humans before me?” Ezra frowned, irrationally hurt by the idea of someone else being intimate with _his_ Crowley.

“There were, but not…” the naga’s eyes flicked down to his tail for a split second. “...not like this. Please, angel, I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not when I’ve just got everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Ezra’s jealousy gave way to remorse. 

“You’re right, my love, I’m sorry to have upset you. It’s rather hypocritical of me, frankly. I haven’t exactly been, er- _chaste_ in the past, either,” he said.

Crowley let out a low hiss then buried his face in Ezra’s shoulder with a petulant huff.

“Don’t wanna talk about _that_ either,”

Ezra laughed and rubbed at the other’s back.

“ _Now_ who’s the jealous one?”

Crowley sighed. “‘M sorry, angel. I really am. I know I shouldn’t be feeling like this, but I just have these _instincts_ that are howling ‘mineminemine’ and it’s _really_ hard to block them out.”

“You’re entitled to your feelings, darling, so long as you don’t act out on the more destructive ones,” Ezra grinned, eyes flashing mischievously.

Crowley shot him a teasing look and purred slowly.

“What if my feelings were about how much I wanted to hunt down whatever lucky bastard it was who got to have you first and crush him to death with my bare _hands?”_

Ezra squeaked. “Okay maybe not _those_ feelings!”

Crowley laughed then leaned down for a tender kiss. “Do you still want that mark, angel?”

“Oh yes _please_ ,” Ezra breathed. Then he thought of something. “But wait, I don’t _have_ venom, and I doubt my teeth are strong enough to leave a scar.”

“Just having you _say_ you love me, _knowing_ I’m yours, is enough for me,” Crowley whispered into the human’s ear, before kissing the shell of it softly.

His love’s words filled Ezra with pride. He was so happy that he could have such an impact on the glorious being before him.

So much had happened in the last month. They had gone from strangers, to friends, to lovers (at least in name, not yet in _practice_ ) at a speed that Ezra would have considered to be foolish were it not for the pervasive _rightness_ he felt. He truly felt as if he’d known Crowley forever, yet there was still so much that he could discover.

Ezra loved him. He had spent so long fretting and fussing over his burgeoning feelings that, when they were finally acknowledged, he felt somewhat off-kilter. It was like he’d been walking down a hallway towards an unlabelled door, panicking the entire way at what horrors may lay beyond, only to finally throw it open and find nothing on the other side except for a cute puppy.

Or, in this case, a giant snake-human who only ever looked at him with love.

Ezra sighed happily. Crowley’s arms wrapped around his middle and the human cuddled closer.

“I’m ready, my love,” Ezra said and his eyes slid closed.

He felt a hand brush through his blonde curls, and a puff of breath right at the junction where his next met his clavicle.

“It’ll be quick, angel. I promise,” the naga murmured against his skin.

Then Crowley struck.

Ezra cried out when sharp fangs pierced the skin of his neck. The pain was quick, sharp, but, true to the redhead’s word, over quickly and gave way to an almost immediate blooming of mild arousal.

He’d always had a thing for biting _and_ being bitten.

A sensation of heat began radiating from where Crowley’s mouth was still attached to his skin.

“Wha- what’s that? Feels warm,” Ezra asked as it increased its intensity.

Crowley grinned. “‘S v’nm.” His mouth was currently, er, _preoccupied_ , but he still took the time to explain what was happening so his mate wouldn’t be afraid.

_‘Mates’, yes. I rather enjoy the sound of that._

Finally, Crowley unlatched. His fangs were tipped by two small drops of Ezra’s blood, which were quickly licked away by a forked tongue. The naga shot him a playfully lecherous look.

“How are you feeling, angel?” was his simple question.

Ezra lifted his hand to gently finger at the bite on his shoulder. The skin felt no different, apart from two puncture wounds and a slightly feverish cast.

“I feel _wonderful,_ dearest. How does it look?” Ezra asked when he realized he couldn’t see it himself.

“It’s a _beautiful_ mark of ownership,” Crowley said serenely.

He nuzzled at the “tattoo”, kissing and licking to soothe the still slightly inflamed flesh.

“You don’t ‘own’ me,” the human giggled as he playfully pushed at Crowley’s chest.

“No. I don’t. But let me indulge in my… baser instincts for a bit longer,”

“Indulge all you like, my darling. So long as I ‘own’ you too,” the human said breathlessly.

“You already do, angel. From that first night on, I’ve only ever been yours,” Crowley said.

What else could Ezra do _but_ kiss him?

The kiss sent intense sparks of electricity through the both of them and they chased after each other’s mouths with enthusiasm, determined to make it last as long as they could. Ezra grazed his blunt, human teeth over Crowley’s lower lip, who jerked his hips instinctively forward to grind against the other’s. At the contact, Ezra made a soft noise of pleasure and tugged the redhead backwards until Crowley had him pressed against the rough wall of the salvage room. He tilted his head with sharp, panting gasps and the naga began kissing over the mark again.

They moved against each other in a way that could only be a precursor to something more explicit. Ezra ran his hands over Crowley’s shoulders, back, and finally came to rest where the naga’s arse would be if he had human legs. The redhead made a startled little “eep” noise but didn’t stop moving, urged on by his mate’s squeezing hands.

“Angel, I… I can’t sssssstop. Tell me you want this,” Crowley gasped, his voice sounding like that night when he’d first asked Ezra if Ezra had wanted _him_.

“ _Yes,_ my dearest. _Yes!_ I… I want to see you, _all_ of you,” Ezra replied into his ear, pressing himself closer.

Crowley, however, stepped back.

“It’s just- um…” he said. “...you do know there’s _two_ of them, right? Two, uh… bits?”

Ezra levelled him with a flat, unamused stare.

“‘Bits’? Really?” the human chastised.

“Don’t _you_ start with me, Mr. ‘Tickety-Boo’!” Crowley griped.

Ezra laughed, but far from unkindly. “Fair enough, my love. As for your… ‘bits’, I _do_ happen to know a thing or two about snake anatomy. It doesn’t bother me. If it bothers _you_ , however, we can stop.”

Crowley shook his head fast enough to nearly whip Ezra across the face with his long hair.

“ _No!_ It doesn’t bother me! I’ve had a long time to get used to them,” the naga emphasized hastily. “I was just looking out for you, is all.”

“Well, as you can _clearly_ tell…” the human gestured at the noticeable tent in his cargo pants (Unsexy pants, those, but when one gets one’s clothes from a pilfered crate, one must make do). “...I am _quite_ unbothered, willing, and _eager_ . So if you would _please_ -”

Crowley dove for Ezra’s zipper, saw that there _wasn’t one_ , and let his forehead thunk against the wall with a groan of _soul-deep_ agony.

“What kind of evil design _is that_?!” the naga muttered.

“I _know_! Dreadful aren’t they? I have to drop trou entirely when I go to pee,” Ezra pouted in answer.

Crowley’s shoulders shook with wheezing guffaws and Ezra smacked his shoulder. “Keep that up and I’ll tell Dorothy that you were making fun of me.”

Crowley instantly stopped laughing. “ _Noooo_ , don’t tell Dorothy. She’ll look at me all disappointed!”

“Then quit acting like a loon and let’s get back to what we started,”

With that, Ezra shucked off his shirt and stepped out of his “evil” pants, standing unashamedly naked.

His cock had started flagging from its previous tumescence, but the way Crowley was staring at it, like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted out of life, was making a _very_ strong case for its renewed interest.

Then one of the scutes on Crowley’s pelvis, right at the place where human torso met snakey hips, shifted slightly and his hemipenes finally made their appearance. They were reddish-pink in color, thicker at the base, and lined with ridges on either side of both. They nestled side-by-side in the gap between scales and seemed to glisten.

Ezra felt aroused and intimidated in equal measure.

“Oh, _Crowley_ … those are… I- _wow!”_ he gaped, letting his brain take a moment to come back online after suddenly having _all of its blood_ redirected south.

“How do you want to do this, angel?” Crowley asked as he scratched nervously at the back of his head.

Ezra wanted to do _a lot_ of things, things involving mouths and holes and fingers and _those cocks_ , but at the moment, only one thing leapt to mind. “C… can I touch them?”

“ _Pleassssse_ ,” Crowley gasped, not caring that the word practically spilled out of him.

Ezra reached out a tentative hand and gently grasped the left hemipene. The texture, apart from the ridges, was smoothe, almost like glass and the thing barely yielded beneath the pressure of his hand. It was slick with some kind of clear fluid; not enough to make penetration comfortable, but enough to where Ezra was able to slowly guide his hand up and down without causing painful friction. Each cock was longer than Ezra’s own, and his hand just barely managed to encircle around its entire width.

Crowley hissed and looked like he was fighting not to thrust into that tight fist.

“Angel, _please_ ,” he groaned, tilting his head back a little.

Ezra blinked the fog of lust away from his mind long enough to stumble back against the wall, bringing Crowley with him.

At the first touch of their cocks against each other, Ezra keened and Crowley snarled.

The naga didn’t speak further, but pressed his face into Ezra’s neck and lifted one of the human’s legs to wrap around his waist. Ezra had an urge to roll his hips and did so, feeling the swell of pleasure growing inside him.

It wasn’t pure want, however, that gathered around them. Ezra could feel his serpent’s love in every thrust and the way one powerful arm snaked (ha!) around his back to pull him closer and in the way the other pressed against the wall by his head, as if protecting him.

Ezra’s hands were clawing at Crowley’s back until one of them started carding though crimson tresses, pulling slightly with every pass. The naga choked out a pleased, if trembling, noise at the touch, crowding harder against the human beneath him.

All sensation and thought beyond the here and now faded away for Ezra. If it _wasn’t_ immediately concerned with Crowley’s cocks or the feel of his lean body, it could wait for _later._ The slick friction against his own member was steadily driving him closer and closer to what he knew would be a shuddering release.

“Darling, please, _please,_ please!”

In a final, desperate bid to come, Ezra tugged Crowley’s hair harder than he had intended and surged forward. He swallowed his lover’s awed shout of pleasure as the other’s fingers closed around his shoulder and the release of both hemipenes painted his belly.

The feel of Crowley spasming above him along with the warm semen hitting his skin was what finally pushed Ezra over.

All higher thinking shut down completely. His hands hooked over Crowley’s shoulders and he finally came with a rush of ecstasy. His mouth dropped open in a silent cry under the onslaught of an orgasm that he could truly say was unlike any other he’d had before.

When he came back to himself, he saw that he was still pushed up against the wall, but now both of his legs had found their way around Crowley’s hips and the redhead had slumped forward.

“That was… _incredible!”_ Ezra slurred, tightening his arms for more skin-to-skin contact.

He continued combing his fingers through Crowley’s hair, though this time it was simply to enjoy the feel of it under his hands while basking in the afterglow. The naga, however, still groaned against Ezra’s bare shoulder at the touch.

“Are you alright, beloved? Do you want to put me down?” the blonde asked, frowning slightly in concern.

“Nuh-uh. Never putting you down again. You live in my arms now,”

“That’s quite unrealistic, dearest. You’d get tired eventually,” Ezra chuckled, shaking his head with a smile.

“Nope. Never will,” Crowley said amusingly and sat back on his tail to have the human straddle his lap chest-to-chest.

“Crowley, if you don’t put me down and let me clean off soon we’re going to be, uh, _stuck_ together,” Ezra threatened, eyes twinkling as he jerked his chin at the mess rapidly cooling between their bodies.

“Who’s complaining? I’m not,”

“ _CROWLEY!”_

“I’m _kidding_!” the naga chortled.

He pushed himself up with his tail in one fluid motion and set his new mate down. Then he held out a hand beseechingly and Ezra took it. “Come on. Let’s go get washed up. When we’re done, will you show me how that ‘radio’ thing works?”

“Anything for you, dearest. I can’t _wait_ to listen to music again,”

The idea of using the radio for anything beyond enjoying music and a dance with his mate never even occurred to Ezra. The two of them strolled out of the cave hand-in-hand, the blonde chattering animatedly and Crowley, ever happy to do so, listening raptly.

*~*~*~*~*

1Halfway through a Nativity Play, Ezra, playing Joseph, had been all set to deliver a grand, heart-rending speech to the audience about how _nobody_ had any room for his poor, heavily pregnant wife. Anathema, playing Mary, stood to the side and caressed the overinflated balloon stuffed under her dress to mimic the appearance of a woman nine months' with child. When Ezra swung his arm out in a wide gesture, he'd accidentally smacked the balloon, instantly popping it.

The actors _and_ audience had gone very, very quiet.

Then, from the back, a single child's voice wailed, "Baby Jesus is _deeeeeaaad_!"[return to text]


	10. An Aura of Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ezra's funeral, Anathema starts to suspect that Captain Medina may be hiding something. Meanwhile, Crowley and his human mate continue enjoying their time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHOY!! (Starts at the last verse of the song and ends with the "*~*~*~*~*~*" after it) Also, I wanted to point out something in the speech Crowley gave Ezra about how he knew he was coming... the sensations he experienced are all based around something that either HAS happened in the fic, or WILL happen in later chapters.

Gabriel trudged down the church steps to his car. He was about to open the driver-side door, when Anathema seized his wrist.

“Gabe, I need to speak to you. This is important,” she whispered urgently.

Gabriel yanked his hand away. Normally he wouldn’t be so harsh to Anathema, but he was at the end of his social rope for the day and just wanted to go home and have a good weep in private.

“Not _now_ , Witch,” he uttered. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“It’s about _Ezra!”_ Anathema hissed.

Gabriel finally turned to face her with a look of baffled astonishment. 

“Did you _not_ …” the younger Fell brother began. “...just _sit there for an hour_ and listen to a bunch of people talk about how _very obviously dead_ he is?!”

Anathema’s eyes darted around, as if afraid of someone overhearing them.

“I _did_ , Gabe, but something’s wrong with this picture…”

“Yeah. Ezra’s not here,”

Gabriel made to open his car door again when Anathema _actually spun him around to pin him to the doorframe._

She bared her teeth in a snarl, eyes angry _._ “Listen to me, you stubborn ox! Something’s wrong with this picture because I think Captain Medina is _lying_ to us.”

Something that felt like an ice shard buried itself in Gabriel’s chest. 

“‘Lying to us’? What are you talking about?” he asked.

Anathema’s eyes went from frustrated to tentative. “I took a look at his aura and-”

Gabriel groaned loud enough for the mourners nearby to wonder if he was having an inappropriate moment at a funeral with the woman crowding him against the car.

“ _Not_ that ‘aura’ nonsense again,” he sighed.

Anathema, as she frequently liked to boast, was a descendent of Agnes Nutter the “Last True Witch of England”. Supposedly, Agnes had penned a book filled with prophecies that were all, 100% correct and passed it down through her family’s line. Unfortunately, the book had been lost generations ago in a pirate raid when Anathema’s family crossed the Atlantic to begin life in “The New World”.

Anathema fancied herself somewhat of a mystic like old Agnes, and claimed to be able to see people’s emotions swirling about their heads in the form of an “aura”. Gabriel didn’t believe any of that nonsense about auras _or_ Agnes’s prophecies, but Ezra had been utterly captivated by the idea and believed her entirely.

“ _Ancient magics, lost books, thrilling overseas journeys! Isn’t it amazing, Gabriel?”_ Ezra had gasped.

_Agnes should’ve taken better care of her shit. If those prophecies_ were _true, they would have been_ reeeeaaalll _fucking handy a month ago!_

Anathema let go of Gabriel’s shoulders, but didn’t necessarily move out of his personal space. “I don’t care if you believe in auras or not, but I _know_ what I saw. Captain Medina is _hiding something_ , and I think that _something_ has to do with Ezra!”

Gabriel’s mouth twisted in anger. “Why? You think that Medina has Ezra hidden away somewhere? That he’s got him locked in his cellar?”

“ _No!”_ growled Anathema, her face shifting to match the outrage painted on Gabriel’s. “I’m saying that _maybe_ Captain Medina isn’t telling the whole truth about Ezra’s ‘death’.”

Gabriel dragged his hand down his face. “And what _proof_ do you have? Besides some nonsense hand-wavy ‘magic’?”

Anathema didn’t move or react to his provocation.

“I _know_ what I saw, Gabe. His aura was _purple_ , the color of deception,” she said cooly.

“I don’t have time for this!”

Gabriel managed to throw open his car door and dive inside faster than Anathema could stop him. He started the engine, rolled down the window a fraction, then said out of it, “Ezra’s _gone_ , Witch. I know you want to keep believing that he’s out there somewhere, but he’s _not_ . For your sake, and mine, _please_ let this go.”

Gabriel didn’t let her say anything else. He backed out of the parking lot and merged onto the road.

*~*~*~*~*

“So, dearest, _this_ little switch here turns the radio _on_ ,”

Saying so, Ezra flipped the switch and music began piping out of the speakers. Crowley lurched forward as if to move his mate away from whatever the radio was going to do next, but then stopped when he saw that nothing bad was happening.

The redhead tilted his head, trying to examine the device from every angle.

“Where does the music come from?” he asked, amazed.

Ezra’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Well, it comes from long distances over radio waves,” he tried to explain. “The waves get picked up by the radio, and then the radio plays the music!”

Crowley still seemed somewhat confused. He took the object and turned it around in his hands, careful to avoid the power switch.

“How is it ‘on’?” he questioned.

“Well, in a small hole on the back there’s a place for batteries. The batteries keep it powered,”

“Uh-huh. What are ‘batteries’?” Crowley asked and began scratching at the back, looking for them.

Ezra gently took the radio back. “Batteries are portable containers for electricity.”

Crowley appeared just as puzzled. “And what’s electricity?”

Ezra sighed and closed his eyes for a brief second before opening them again.

“Crowley… how long have you been here?” he whispered.

“Long enough to not know what half those words are,” Crowley joked, playfully jostling the human’s shoulder.

Ezra knew Crowley was deflecting the answer with humor. He almost called him out on it, _demanded_ an answer, but he could see the slightly tensed lines of his mate’s posture and the almost desperate, pleading gaze praying for the deflection to _work._

In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter.

The subject was obviously a sore spot for him, and what kind of partner would Ezra be if he tried to force his love into admitting something before he was comfortable enough to do so on his own? He _wasn’t_ , however, going to let Crowley continue deflecting. Ezra had had _quite_ enough of deception and dishonesty (almost entirely on his part).

Ezra stood on his tip-toes to kiss Crowley’s temple. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. All I ask is that you be honest with me when I ask something uncomfortable, so I know to avoid it in the future.”

Crowley moved until he was face-level with Ezra, thankful yellow eyes meeting considerate blue.

“Thank you, angel. I will tell you someday… just not today,” he said softly.

“Whenever you do, I’ll be ready to listen,” the human replied.

“I don’t deserve you,”

“I don’t deserve _you_ , either,Crowley. So let’s just stop talking about who deserves what and be grateful for what we have. _I_ happen to have a _dashing_ mate, to whom I promised music for a courting dance,”

Crowley chuckled. “Sounds good, angel. I’ll even let _you_ pick the song.”

Ezra snorted. “ _Soooo_ generous, my love is.”

The naga just smiled at him as he began twisting one of the dials to flip through music stations. After a few rotations, Ezra stopped on a channel dedicated to broadway hits of the last decade. The song he’d landed on was already two verses in, and sung by two male singers instead of the original male/female duet, but he recognized it immediately. “Oh! How lovely! Ross has such a _delightful_ voice.”

Crowley was pulled into a clumsy box-step (or box slither, in his case) just as the beginning of the third verse started up and Ezra began singing along.

“ _So what if it’s us?_

_What if it’s us,_

_And only us_

_And what came before won’t count anymore, or matter?_

_Can we try that?”_

Crowley nodded eagerly. Ezra smiled and continued singing the next verse.

“ _What if it’s you_

_And what if it’s me_

_And what if that’s all that we need it to be_

_And the rest of the world falls away?_

_What do you say?”_

Crowley let his cheek come to rest on Ezra’s shoulder. “That’s all I ever needed from you, angel.”

“ _I never thought there’d be someone like you who could want me._

_So I’ll give you 10,000 reasons to not let me go._

_But if you really see me,_

_If you like me for me and nothing else…_

_Well that’s all that I’ve wanted for more than you could possibly know.”_

Crowley’s laugh was wet with tears as he scrubbed ineffectually at his eyes with the heel of his palm. He caught the tune of the chorus coming up and hummed along, as he didn’t know the words.

“ _So it can be us._

_It can be us._

_It can be only us._

_And what came before won’t count anymore or matter._

_We can try that!”_

Ezra spun Crowley out, holding him at arm’s length with one hand.

“ _It’s not so impossible;_

_Nobody else but the two of us here._

_‘Cause you’re saying it’s possible._

_We can just watch the whole world disappear_

_‘Til you’re the only one_

_I still know how to see.”_

Crowley began reeling Ezra in by his arm, eyes alight with _intent._

“ _It’s just you and me._

_It’ll be us, it’ll be us_

_And only us_

_And what came before won’t count anymore-”_

Ezra’s singalong stopped as he was _yanked_ to Crowley’s chest. 

“Dearest!” he scolded, even as he placed a hand on the side of his love’s face.

Ezra’s determination to chastise crumbled immediately as Crowley placed his hand over his tilted his face to kiss the inside of the blonde’s wrist. His wrists were quite sensitive and Ezra made a frantic sound, burying his face under Crowley’s chin to press a quick kiss there in retaliation.

“ _Again_ already, angel? It’s only been a couple of hours,” the naga teased, his free hand resting on Ezra’s shoulder then sliding down to thumb at the curve of his hip.

“Like you aren’t just as eager,” the blonde’s breath was shaky.

“Guilty as charged,” Crowley’s fingers danced across Ezra’s stomach (earning him a brief ticklish giggle) before finally skirting over the bulge in his trousers.

Ezra was _seriously_ tempted to simply grab Crowley’s hand and _put it_ where he wanted it. Did he always have to be so taunting?! Thankfully, Crowley wasn’t _too_ sadistic and hooked a finger through the belt loops to drag the pants to the floor to finally free Ezra’s erection. The naga closed his hand around it and gave a few quick, experimental tugs.

“Oh, my darling, that feels so _good_ ,” Ezra gasped while he was still in possession of his thoughts. “Your hands feel _wonderful_.”

Ezra’s voice had pitched low and soft, almost _reverential_ and Crowley looked stunned by it. He hid his face in the blonde’s neck and whimpered, going red all the way down to his shoulders to match his hair.

Ezra’s skin felt overheated from the sensation of Crowley’s hand around his cock. He stumbled a little, finding it increasingly difficult to remain upright, and gasped. If he were close enough, he’d kiss his serpentine lover, but he settled for clutching at the other’s shoulders as the movements of his hand picked up speed.

“So good to me, my love,” Ezra whispered into the space between them. “ _So good.”_

He looked down at Crowley’s hand on his cock, hard and twitching, and blushed crimson. He bit his lip and his own fingers twitched out towards his mate’s members, which had made an appearance. “May I…?” he asked.

“Yes,” Crowley gasped. “Please, angel, I’m yours.”

The moment he expressed his consent (though a verbal confirmation was hardly needed by this point in their relationship) Ezra eagerly managed to get his hand around _both_ hemipenes. It was a bit of a reach for his smaller palm, but soon he was pumping them at the same pace as Crowley’s.

That almost seemed to goad Crowley on, and Ezra made a noise that was a cross between a whine and a sob. His breath sped up and he could feel his toes curling; he was close and so was his love.

“Angel- I- oh!” Crowley choked out. “T-tell me again, _please!”_

Ezra knew _exactly_ what the redhead wanted him to say.

“I _love_ you,” he said fiercely. “I _choose_ you. I _love_ you. My mate, my darling, my _Crowley.”_

Crowley was done for.

He was now rocking half-madly in Ezra’s grip and no longer bothering to hide his urgent cries. When he came, the noises shifted into relieved gasps. Ezra, meanwhile, went tense and then came all over Crowley’s hand in quick, heavy bursts. The pleasure of it was sweet and joyful and he slumped, barely able to keep himself standing. Crowley appeared to be in a similar state, but at least he had the comfort of being able to fold his own tail up under himself like a scale-covered beanbag chair.

He pulled Ezra down to sit next to him on his tail, neither of them remotely concerned that they were smearing cum on each other.

“Oh my goodness,” the blonde gasped, twitching against Crowley. The naga had slumped to the side as well, panting open-mouthed, and they both simply propped each other up.

Crowley rested his head on Ezra’s shoulder and the human, in turn, cuddled up to the other’s pleasant warmth.

“Well? How was it?” Crowley asked, reaching up to loop an arm around his mate’s lower back.

“ _Very_ lovely. Thank you, my darling,” Ezra said, lifting his clean arm to pat the naga’s cheek.

Crowley smirked. “Just ‘lovely’? Not ‘mind-blowing’? Or ‘amazing’? Or ‘oh, Crowley you’ve ruined me for all other snake-men’?” Teasing was in his voice and words.

Blue eyes turned to smile at him. “You _have_ ruined me for all others; snake-men or not.” Ezra said.

Crowley suddenly doubled-over, tail and body alike shaking with laughter. “I just realized something! We have to go back to the rockpool and clean up again!”

He continued cackling and Ezra shot him a glare. 

“No! Absolutely not! I’m _not_ walking all the way there again!”

The blonde got up, stomped over to his discarded ( _awful_ ) cargo pants, and wiped off his hand on them. He passed them over to Crowley by a clean corner. He grumbled, “There! Use that and then I never have to wear these horrible things again! I can just say they’re ruined.”

“You absolute bastard,” Crowley took the soon-to-be-ruined pants. “Too lazy to walk, eh?”

Ezra pouted. “I am _not._ I just don’t like doing things more than I have to.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and pointedly _did not_ mention that was what lazy _meant._

*~*~*~*~*

As soon as she got back home from the funeral, Anathema threw herself entirely into research. She kept poring over the notes that she’d managed to gather about the place of Ezra’s “death” (she always thought it in quotation marks, because she refused to believe he was _really_ gone until she had more answers) and a few things kept leaping out at her.

The first, and most pressing on, was Captain Medina’s deception. His aura had been a royal purple at the funeral, streaked through with grey-colored lines of guilt. The guilt would, on first assumption, probably be related to the fact that he’d failed his mission, but taken in the context of his deceit, could also be indicative that he felt guilty about lying.

_What had he said about Ezra’s death? Animal attack?_

Anathema mentally parsed through the list of animals she knew big enough to fully devour a grown, adult male, but even that list was distressingly short. Whatever had done it, it _had_ to have been something big and vicious enough to render Ezra’s body unsuitable for retrieval.

_But even_ that _doesn’t make sense. Mangled people get returned_ all _the time! That’s why we have closed-casket funerals! Unless… the body was simply_ gone…

If the body _was_ gone _,_ though, why would Captain Medina lie about it? He had _never_ said there was no corpse, only that there wasn’t enough to _retrieve._

_Not even a scrap of clothing? A shoe? He couldn’t bring back_ anything?

To Anathema, the facts weren’t quite adding up. 

She brought the picture of the monster reputed to haunt the island back up on her laptop. She stared at its powerful tail, its inhuman eyes. 

_That thing would certainly be big enough to do the job…_

Had Ezra been killed by this creature? It was certainly believable to Anathema, who was of the mind that there were some things in this world that science couldn’t quantifiably measure. If Ezra _had_ been devoured by the beast, it would make sense why Captain Medina was being dishonest; after all, he’d want to appear as still being in possession of his sanity.

Despite this, however, Anathema just couldn’t _quite_ silence the scratching at the back of her mind. Call it “Witch’s Intuition”, but there was still _something there_ that she felt she was missing. She looked at her phone charging on the table beside her. 

She still had Captain Medina’s number…

She could call him, demand to know the truth. Though, would he even give it? She couldn’t _force_ him to answer, but she could at least talk his ear off until either he cracked or blocked her number.

What did she have to lose?

“Call Medina,”

The screen of her phone lit up and turned on the speaker. The ringing of it sounded almost unbearably loud in the silence of her kitchen. Finally, just as it was about to flip over to voicemail, a gruff, ragged voice answered, “Carlos Medina here, what do you want?”

“Hello? Captain? It’s me, Anathema Device. I’m the woman who-”

“The Ezra Fell case, yes. I’m surprised you still have my number,”

“Well, you did say to call if I needed anything,” Anathema chuckled, trying to keep her tone light and airy.

“I did indeed, ma’am. I’m assuming that’s why you’re calling?”

“Yes, actually. I was hoping I could speak to you about the condition in which you found my friend’s body? I have a few questions I was hoping you could clear up,”

The man on the other end went quiet so fast that Anathema thought that they’d been disconnected. “Hello? Captain?”

When Medina answered after several beats of silence, his voice was soft, but strained.

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m not a medical examiner…” he muttered.

Anathema tapped at the surface of her kitchen table with a black-painted nail. “That’s alright. I don’t need you to be. I just want to ask how it looked when you found it? Was it crushed? Mangled? Torn to pieces?”

She felt sick asking such questions, but it was a necessary sacrifice. If Captain Medina couldn’t tell her how it looked right off the top of his head, then it pointed to one of two conclusions.

Either the man was making something up to spare her the gruesome details, which was a very likely possibility…

Or he had never found the body to begin with.

“ _Why_ are you asking me that?” Medina gasped.

_Jackpot!_

He hadn’t answered right away, either to tell the truth or explain why he couldn’t tell her about the state of Ezra’s corpse. He’d deflected. Anathema’s second theory was more and more like the truth.

She put on her best pleading expression, even though she knew Medina would be unable to see it. “I need to know because it will help bring me closure. I keep imagining worse and worse things, and they’re giving me nightmares.”

Lies.

She’d been having nightmares since Ezra _first_ disappeared.

Medina made a series of half-started consonants, like he couldn’t decide what to say.

“I… his body was…”

Anathema had seen him at the funeral, nervously wringing his hat. For all the stern professionalism he attempted to cloak about himself, when he was off the clock, he was actually pretty timid. It was no different than some curmudgeonly bastard putting on a fake smile for his customer service job. 

Finally, Anathema dropped the pretext.

“Cut the crap, Medina. I _know_ you’re lying to me,” she said threateningly.

If she could have looked into the phone, she would have seen his aura spike with the color of startlement: duckling-down yellow.

“Y-you-?”

Anathema sighed. “I _just_ want the truth. Something happened on that island… something _you_ don’t want to talk about because you think you’ll be branded as insane. You can _tell_ me. I’ve _always_ believed in the presence of things beyond our reasoning. Your secret is as safe with me as surely as it would be inside your own head.”

She smiled internally at the sound of Medina making a small, hopeful noise.

“You have to understand, if my fellow officers caught me talking about this, I’d be sent off to the VA for a psych evaluation,”

Anathema nodded subconsciously and propped her socked feet on the table as she leaned back in her chair. 

“I get it, Medina, I _do_ . But what could I possibly do to hurt you? If you told me, then who would believe _me_ ? Besides, it might feel good to get this off your chest,” she said, trying to sound sympathetic while _not_ grinning diabolically at having the truth _so close_.

Medina exhaled like he was releasing tension from every molecule of his body. “I… you’re right. Something _did_ happen.”

“There was no body, was there?”

“No. There wasn’t. There was something else,”

Anathema sat back up and leaned forward, as if that would _somehow_ bring her closer to Medina to ensure she heard properly. She was frowning intensely.

“What did you find, Captain?” she asked.

“A monster,”

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley was napping amongst the piled pillows of his nest, sleeping off his and Ezra’s recent exertions. He was twisted on his side, head resting on his bicep and red hair akimbo. He was snoring loudly, open-mouthed, Ezra watching him in utter delight.

_Goodness, even his_ snores _are precious. I shouldn’t say that, though, or he’ll get all huffy._

He leaned over to softly peck Crowley’s forehead. The naga mumbled something about eggs before blinking sleepily awake. He gave a small smile.

“Hey, ‘ngel. Need somethin’?”

“No, darling. Just couldn’t resist kissing you,” This time Ezra kissed his sleep-slack mouth. “I’m going to play with the radio for a little bit. You can go back to sleep.”

Crowley hummed in compliance and let his eyes close again. Ezra watched until his love was fully back under, then padded out of the room.

He knew he was being a little sneaky waiting until Crowley was otherwise busy to try contacting the outside world, but he wanted to mentally prepare Anathema and Gabriel before he just waltzed back into their lives with a giant snake for a mate. They doubtless had a _lot_ of questions about how he’d survived thus far…

In the salvage room, Ezra sat down beside the radio, flicked it on, and began fiddling with the knobs and microphone.

*~*~*~*~*

“Was it the monster from the drawing?” Anathema asked. “The one you sent me with the other information?”

Medina audibly gulped. “It _was_ . My men and I were attacked by it. It injured one of my Apprentices by crushing him, then tried to bite a second. I managed to distract it enough for them all to get to safety but then… the beast _spoke_.”

Anathema swallowed, her eyes wide and breathing shallow.

“It _spoke_?” she whispered.

“It did. It told me that Ezra was dead, that it… well… I won’t tell you the details, but suffice it to say, it told me it killed him,” Medina answered grimly.

“But you said there was no body. Could the creature have been lying?” Anathema asked desperately, her hands drumming faster on the table.

“Ha! With all due respect, ma’am, why on earth would it lie?” Medina questioned, his voice sounding just on the edge of hysteria.

“I don’t know!” Anathema retorted and threw up her hands. “Maybe it was hiding him somewhere and didn’t want you to find him, like a keepsake? Maybe it was just messing with you? Maybe it was even _protecting_ him!”

Medina actually laughed at that last statement.

“‘Protecting’?! Are you insane?! That thing was _dangerous_ ! I _tried_ to ask for it to give your friend back, but it just told me Ezra was dead and threw me to the ground like I weighed _nothing_!”

“Well _I’m_ not going to believe that Ezra’s dead until I see his corpse for myself!” the occultist growled, clenching her fist.

“You really _are_ insane! That monster, that _island_ , is Hell itself! If you try to go there, you _will_ die! Besides, have you forgotten that it is _illegal_ to do so and that you are speaking to someone who can and _will_ have you and whoever else helps you arrested for intention to trespass in a restricted area?”

Anathema’s right eye twitched. Captain Medina was correct, of course. Assuming she even found a way to the island, she’d most likely be thrown in jail for violating a protection order - assuming the monster didn’t eat her first. 

She’d have to try a different angle.

“Don’t you care about your Apprentices, Captain? One of them almost _died_! Don’t you want to kill the creature responsible for hurting them and haunting their nightmares?” she whispered.

“I…”

Anathema continued, on a roll. “What about _yourself?_ What happens when the burden of _knowing_ becomes too much? The guilt? What if Ezra really _is_ still alive, and you left him at the mercy of that _creature_?”

She was laying the shame on a little thick, but she could practically _feel_ the way Medina’s will was bending. Just a little more and it would _break..._

“Please, Captain, don’t let my friend become just another memory,” she sobbed.

The crack, when it came, was strangely gentle. It was almost as if the man had been waiting for the right reason to give in, to yield to temptation. “Okay. I’ll help you. I can sneak us onto the island, but the transportation will have to come from you. I can’t risk getting caught absconding with a naval vessel; last thing I need is to end up court-marshalled before we can even start.”

Anathema smiled, a genuine one, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Don’t worry about that, Captain. I know a guy,”

*~*~*~*~*

**Song for the Fic:**


	11. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's and Ezra's respective deceptions come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The average human rock-climbing speed (assuming there are proper handholds and footholds, the human in question is either in good shape or has done this before, and is moving constantly) is 25 feet per minute.

After the fourth or fifth time Ezra tried to find an open communication channel, only to be greeted with blaring static, he gave up for the time being in favor of sitting on the ground, arms crossed petulantly.

Beside him, the radio played one of those dreadful “Top 40 Pop Hits” before the bubble-gum sound of it faded out to be replaced with an overly cheerful Karen-sounding woman.

“Gooood afternoon, listeners! This is 20.8 HTR - Ravin’ with Raven! I’m your host, Raven Hardy!” she chirped.

Ezra groaned, but didn’t change the station; it was nice to catch a glimpse of the outside world after a month being away.

“In today’s Media Hype Segment, we’re discussing the  _ straaaange  _ disappearance of beloved author, Ezra Fell, whose loss has shaken the literary community to its core!”

The blonde shivered as if he had just felt someone walking over his grave. It was rather morbid of him to keep listening, but a curious part of him wanted to hear what was being said about him. Had there been any grand conspiracies, dreamt up by fans who fancied themselves the next Holmes? Had his publishers tried to use this incident as additional publicity? 

He scooted closer and listened to the host woman with rapt attention.

“As many of you know, one month ago Ezra Fell was reported as missing after falling off a yacht rented to celebrate his one-millionth book sold. Search teams scoured the sea, but no trace of him or his body were ever found and he was soon declared dead,”

Ezra gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth.

_ Oh no! Gabriel and Anathema must be  _ heartbroken.  _ Don’t worry, my dears! I’ll be back in contact with you as soon as I get this blasted thing to work! Why couldn’t it have been jettisoned with an  _ instruction manual?

Raven continued on, completely unaware of the “dead” man listening in to her broadcast.

“Today, we have an  _ exclusive interview  _ with one of the members of the Search and Rescue team assigned to his case: Seaman Apprentice Samuel Cassidy!”

Raven played a clip of canned applause.

“Th-thank you, Raven. Happy to be here,” came a young man’s voice from the speakers.

_ He doesn’t  _ sound  _ very happy to be there. Must be stage fright or whatever the radio equivalent is. _

“So, Cassidy, tell us about your experience looking for Mr. Fell! Any interesting stories or juicy details?” Raven chirped.

Ezra frowned.

_ Good Lord! This woman is gossiping about my “death” as if I were some movie starlet who wore the same dress twice in a row! _

There came the sound of someone shifting uncomfortably in their chair.

“Oh, well, you know… lots of ocean… lots of jungle, you know how it is,” Cassidy murmured.

That last part had Ezra blinking in confusion.

_ ‘Jungle’? What is he talking about? There was never any- _

An ineffable  _ something  _ wormed its way into Ezra’s brain. He wouldn’t call it a  _ thought _ , per say, more like a growing sense of dread; like one standing atop a hill and feeling the distant rumble of an oncoming thunderstorm.

Raven made a considering noise. “Yes, we heard about the failed island rescue. Tragic story, that. Can you tell us, from your own perspective, what happened?”

Ezra hadn’t even noticed he was holding his breath.

_ Surely it wasn’t  _ this  _ island! There’s got to be  _ hundreds  _ of them in the Atlantic alone. No need for alarm, old chap… _

He heard Cassidy take a nervous breath. “W-well, er, not much happened, really. We came ashore, I kicked a crab, and I guess I must have pissed off the island’s guardian with that because there was a  _ massive fuck-off monst-  _ uhm… snake.  _ Reaaaallly  _ big snake. It almost killed my buddy Hua, then tried to do the same to  _ me  _ before Captain Medina shot it in the chest.”

Ezra started trembling.

_ Those… those bruises on Crowley’s chest…  _ how  _ did I not notice they were shaped like a ballistic impact?! _

“Wooooow! Did your Captain manage to kill it?” Raven asked.

“ _ No!  _ The big fucker was covered in black scales that must have been made of Wolverine’s  _ bones  _ or somethin’! Captain Medina told me to run, so I did. Later, he comes back to the ship unharmed, but pretty shaken. He then tells us that the monster told  _ him  _ that Fell was dead and to  _ never  _ come back!” the Apprentice answered immediately.

Ezra froze.

_ This… this can’t be real… Crowley wouldn’t… he wouldn’t try to  _ keep  _ me here against my will! He  _ wouldn’t _! _

_ But he did… _

“Wait? I thought you said it was a giant snake? What monster are you talking about?” Raven asked.

“S-sorry, did I say that? I meant that Captain  _ Medina  _ told us Fell was dead and that we shouldn’t come back,”

Ezra didn’t want to hear anymore. 

He turned off the radio and shoved himself away from it until he had backed up all the way against the opposite wall. He sat there, knees curled up to his chest and hands fisted in his hair as tears leaked steadily down his face.

He stared at the opposite wall, right on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

He thought back to the day Crowley had secreted him away in the underground cave within the rockpool, talking about “monsters”.

_ That… that  _ bastard!  _ He  _ lied  _ to me! He didn’t care about my safety! He only cared about keeping me here! Did he  _ ever  _ love me?!  _ Does  _ he even love me…? _

Ezra  _ desperately  _ wanted it to be a misunderstanding, but he’d just heard the evidence himself! There  _ had  _ been a rescue, they’d just been  _ attacked  _ by the being sleeping one room over. And that was the kicker, wasn’t it?

Crowley had tried to  _ kill  _ these people, because they were going to take away what he saw as his. 

Would he do the same to Ezra if he tried to leave?

_ Let him, then! I don’t  _ care  _ anymore! Gabriel and Anathema already think I’m dead, at least if he  _ does  _ kill me then I’ll have died fighting for my freedom. _

Ezra wasn’t thinking rationally. There was nothing stopping him from sending out a true distress signal with the radio and simply playing along at being Crowley’s mate, just as he had originally been planning, but the heartbreak was overwhelming with the sting of betrayal.

He sat there, lost in his own feelings of fury, when Crowley entered the room, having apparently finished his nap.

“Angel? Are you alright? You look pretty shaken,” he said.

Ezra forced himself to meet his eyes. 

He’d been planning a heroic confrontation with a noble speech prepared about how he was  _ no one’s  _ prisoner and was prepared to fight.

The sight of that face that he still -  _ damn me for a fool! _ \- loved, crumpled in concern, washed away all thoughts of battle to be replaced by an aching resignation.

“You lied to me,” he said slowly, almost hesitantly.

Crowley turned his head, confused.

“I did? When?”

Ezra leapt to his feet, a bit of fire returned at Crowley’s false bewilderment.

_ How  _ dare  _ he try to manipulate me, still! _

“You lied about the  _ ‘monsters’ _ !” the blonde exclaimed. “They were  _ humans!” _

Crowley stared at Ezra like he said he’d just been diagnosed with some incurable disease.

“I’m… I’m sorry that you had to find out that way, angel,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Oh, yes! That's just classic blame deflection, isn’t it? Make it seem like it’s  _ my  _ fault that I found out the man I love has been keeping me prisoner here in some kind of gilded cage! That I was too blind to see the bars for the filigree!”

Crowley tilted his head. “‘Prisoner’?  _ No,  _ angel! Those humans were going to  _ hurt  _ you! They said they were going to take you away from your home. They were going to force you to go with them, and I didn’t know where that was but it can’t have been anywhere good.”

“They weren’t here to  _ steal _ me, they were here to  _ rescue  _ me!” Ezra snapped, as close to tears as he could reasonably be, which, at the time, was quite close.

Crowley flinched back. Then his face fell as realization dawned on him.

“You… you  _ wanted  _ to leave…”

The naga looked less like an abducting monster, and more like a deeply wounded human with every moment that ticked by. Ezra, despite his anger, wanted to go to him and take that pain away.

He moved one step forward. “I… I  _ did…  _ at first.”

Crowley hissed lowly, desperate to believe that what Ezra had just admitted wasn’t true. “You were… you were jusssssst  _ using me  _ to get back home?! Is  _ that  _ why you held off on agreeing to become my mate?!”

“At… at first, yes. Believe me, I felt  _ horrible  _ doing so, because you were so sweet and kind and caring! But then, as the weeks went by, I realized that I truly did love you and wanted to stay with you,”

Crowley slumped forward, misery and dejection rolling off him in waves. He reached a hand mournfully towards Ezra’s beautiful white curls then stopped and pulled his arm back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he sighed. “Why didn’t you  _ sssssssay  _ you wanted to go home? Why did you let me believe for so long that this island was your home?”

“What choice did I have? A being  _ much  _ larger and  _ more powerful  _ than me had taken an interest in me. What else could I have done but play along until rescue came? What if he hurt me for saying ‘no’?” Ezra pointed out.

“I would  _ never  _ have hurt you, angel!” Crowley sobbed and buried his face in his hands.

Ezra shook his head and felt like tearing out his hair at the roots. Further frustration, however, would not mend the bonds that were currently being torn. He finished what Crowley had been about to do, and reached out a hand to stroke the naga’s hair. He tried to impart a gentle, reassuring feeling in the motion and Crowley, despite himself, leaned into it like a cat reaching for a pat.

“I  _ know  _ you would never hurt me,” Ezra hushed. “At the time, however, I didn’t. But, then I saw how gentle you truly were and those thoughts of being in any danger from you disappeared.”

“But that  _ sssssstill  _ doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me, even  _ after  _ you began to trust me,” Crowley argued weakly.

“I… I didn’t want to hurt you,”

Crowley groaned, but Ezra continued to pet him.

“And look what a fat load of good ‘trying not to hurt me’ has done!” the redhead moaned.

Ezra just kept up the relaxing touch. Crowley sighed a little and, looking quite put out that he had the desire to do so, wrapped his arms around the blonde’s middle to rest his head against that soft (if now slightly firmer than a month ago) stomach.   
“I’m sorry, dearest, I truly am,” Ezra cooed. His fingers kept carding through ruby-red hair, caressing the strands.

Crowley was silent, simply holding on, and the human continued. “I’ll admit… I still wanted to leave right up until, well, just this morning.”

The naga was withdrawn, not smiling. 

“What changed your mind?” he murmured.

Ezra leaned into Crowley a little, his royal-blue eyes shining with tears.

“You gave me a radio,” he whispered. “I originally wanted it so I could call for rescue. But then, when I had it… I realized that I couldn’t leave you.”   
Crowley started shaking beneath him, then suddenly pulled away, leaving Ezra standing there, empty-handed.

“You usssssed me for  _ that  _ too?! You told me that you wanted it for music and courtship dances! How much of our courtship was  _ genuine _ ?” he grated out.

“ _ All of it! _ ” Ezra shouted, eyes open and hurt, and face red with anger. “But what about you, hm? You’ve been alone on this island for God-knows-how-long and you just  _ happen  _ to ‘fall in love’ with the first human you see? What if it had been Anathema who came here? Or Gabriel? Would you have loved them instead? How much of  _ me  _ do you truly love, and how much of it was because I was just the first available choice?!”

Crowley growled.

“ _ All of you!”  _ he bit back in a parallel of Ezra’s own answer. “I could have killed you that firsssssst night, but I  _ didn’t  _ because… because…” He sank down on his tail, unable to continue standing. “...because I  _ saw  _ you, angel. You fell asleep on the beach as if you  _ weren’t  _ about to be swept out again, so I dragged you further up.  _ Then  _ you picked a fight with a  _ seagull _ and- and-” Crowley was laughing crazily, even as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I watched you through your first night, trying to see what you would do… and I heard you talking to the stars. For a beautiful moment, frozen in time, you weren’t scared about your situation. You looked so happy and at peace. The way they  _ shone  _ in your eyes just… that’s when I knew I wanted to be yours.”

Crowley sniffled, but didn’t bother wiping his eyes. Ezra was now openly crying.

“But  _ why _ , dearest? You told me that humans are  _ monsters  _ because they only destroy. What made  _ me  _ special?”

Crowley shook his head.

“You aren’t  _ like them _ , angel. You’re  _ different _ ,”

Ezra stomped his foot.

“No,” was his reply. “I’m not. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me that you hate all humans, only to tell me that I’m the exception to the rule. You don’t get to try to  _ kill  _ other humans-”

“I  _ told you _ , I thought they were trying to  _ hurt  _ you-”

“Would you please just  _ SHUT UP _ ?!”

Crowley clapped his mouth shut.

Ezra took a second to calm his breathing from his outburst.

“It’s  _ never  _ a compliment to be ‘not like the other girls’. It’s unrealistic expectations, it’s being put on a pedestal, it’s the- the- the Madonna-Whore Dichotomy but for humans in general instead of just women! You, in essence, martyred me against my will, Crowley, to be ‘the  _ one  _ good human’. I’m not asking you to love them all, but you  _ do  _ need to tolerate my kind, because I’m just as human as those poor boys you hurt,”

Crowley lifted his head from where it was dangling forward. He at least had the good grace to look ashamed, but it was quickly shuttered away behind tired eyes. “I’m sorry, angel. I never meant to make you feel like that. I… I  _ can’t  _ like humans, not yet anyway, but it doesn’t matter anymore…” He pushed himself up off his tail. “...you have your radio. You can go home.”

Crowley tried to brush past Ezra, but the human grabbed his arm to stop him. “Don’t you  _ see?  _ I don’t  _ have  _ to go! I was thinking that I could send a message to my brother using the radio, tell him I’m okay and that he doesn’t have to worry about me anymore, then we can continue staying here! Together!”

Golden eyes flared. “Do you  _ really  _ think that will work? Are you so naive that you honestly believe that your family will let you stay?! If they love you  _ half  _ as much as you say they do, then they’d  _ swim  _ here to drag you back if they could. Face it: it’s either them or me, and you’ve already made your choice clear.” Crowley jerked his arm free.

Ezra whined and tried to take it again, but the redhead moved out of his reach.

“T-then I won’t do it!” the human gasped. “They already think I’m dead, and I don’t want to  _ lose you _ !”

Crowley shook his head.

“How can you expect me to believe you after you deceived me for so long? Besides, I  _ never  _ wanted you to give up your home for me.  _ Call them,  _ Ezra,” The human’s heart shattered at the use of his name, instead of “angel”. “You can keep the nest, in the meantime. It holds too many memories for me.”

Crowley quickly slithered out of the cave, with Ezra screaming after him, begging him to come back.

*~*~*~*~*

Newt puttered about his flat, glad to be out of his too-large funeral suit. He nursed a mug of Jasmine tea in his hand and was considering calling Anathema to check on her, when he heard a pounding knock at his front door. He flinched a little, spilling hot tea down his shirt front.

“C-coming!” he winced.

When he opened the door, Captain Medina stood there in a hoodie pulled over his head.

“I’m told you have a boat,” he said, and Newt felt more than a little intimidated by the larger man.

“Is… is this a robbery?” Newt whimpered softly.

“Huh?”

“For God’s sake, Medina,  _ move _ ! You’re scaring the poor guy!”

The Naval Captain lifted his arm and Anathema ducked under it to walk into Newt’s flat.

“Oh! It’s just you, Anathema. Thank goodness!” the smaller man said with relief.

“Newt, sweetie, I need you to do me a favor…”

Anathema put her hands on his shoulders to get him to look her in the eye.

“Sure, what is it? Do you need me to check on Gabriel again?” the bespectacled man asked, eager to aid his crush in whatever way he could.

“We need to commandeer your boat,”

Anathema winced at Medina’s brazen statement and Newt just felt lost.

“P- pardon?” he asked.

Anathema framed his face with her hands. “Newt, listen, Medina wasn’t truthful about finding Ezra’s remains. I suspect that he might still be alive, and Medina has his own reasons for wanting to go back to the island… so we need to borrow your boat.”

Newt gasped. “Ezra’s  _ alive _ ?! Wait… you two want to  _ go  _ to that potentially monster-infested place?!”

Medina crossed his arm. “Not ‘potentially’. It  _ is  _ monster-infested.”

“B-but… I…” Newt stammered in answer.

Anathema’s brown eyes, which glinted with a  _ fierce  _ determination, met Newt’s pewter-colored ones.

“Newt,  _ please.  _ You don’t have to come, Medina can sail just fine, but we  _ need  _ to borrow your boat,” she whispered.

“It’s… it’s not mine,”

Anathema’s mouth fell open and Medina blinked in surprise.

“What do you  _ mean  _ ‘it’s not mine’?!” the occultist hissed harshly.

“The yacht technically belongs to the recreational sailing company I work for - Whatever Floats Your Boat. I just sail the things. If you want to use it, you have to rent it from  _ them _ ,” Newt simply answered.

Anathema closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Fine. I’ll rent it. Do you want to come or not?”

Newt looked between her and Medina and nodded. “Yes. I do. I don’t want you to go without me, Anathema. I know I’m not… not that strong, but I can protect you.”

The woman in front of him stepped back with a smirk. “Oh, sweetie. If anything,  _ I’ll  _ be the one protecting you.”

“P-probably. Still thought I’d offer,”

Medina came forward to shake Newt’s hand in a powerful grip. “Thanks for helping out, buddy. We’ll need all the manpower we can get. How long do you think we’ll be on the waiting list before we can take the yacht out?”

Newt accepted the offered hand. “A few days. A week at most. I’ll put in the request to be the captain assigned to it and see if I can’t push the paperwork forward a bit.”

Anathema smiled brightly and slung her arms around both men.

“I’ve got a  _ great  _ feeling about this!”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was alone for the first time since coming to the island.

He sat in the middle of his and Crowley’s (or at least, it  _ used  _ to be) nest, cradling the radio in his lap and feeling curiously hollow.

His fingers brushed over the knobs. He could call his family, but what would be the  _ point  _ anymore? 

_ The point would be to go _ home _. Come on, old boy, let’s just leave this whole mess behind us. It was fun while it lasted, but Crowley’s left you, and he was right to do so.  _

_ Do it. _

_ Call them. _

Ezra grit his teeth and gripped the edges of the radio in clawed fingers.

_ NO! I  _ won’t!  _ Not until I make this  _ right!  _ I don’t care if he never forgives me; he deserves to know that he’s loved. _

The human grabbed one of the blankets from the nest and tied it diagonally across his torso and slipped the radio inside his impromptu pouch. This time the intrusive voices didn’t try to stop him. He was too determined to right the wrongs he had inflicted on his dear serpent.

_ Of course, my first step should probably be  _ finding  _ him… _

His initial search took him to the beach, where he walked up and down the length of it calling out for Crowley. When no answer was forthcoming, he returned to the jungle.

_ I hope he hasn’t gone further in. That would make things quite difficult. I don’t want to ask his sisters to guide me, but I will if I must! _

He came to the rockpool next, shouting the entire time. He kneeled at the edge to peer into the watery depths, praying that his love hadn’t dove down into the cave out of sheer determination to avoid him.

Then, in the mirror-like surface closest to the shore, Ezra saw something reflected in it. It looked like the tip of a scaly, black tail dangling over the edge of the cliff face above. The human looked up and saw that, indeed, Crowley was hiding at the top by where the river turned to falls.

“Crowley! There you are! Whatever are you doing up there, dearest?” the human yelled over the roar of the water.

The tail disappeared from the edge, but no reply followed.

Then, “‘M ignoring you, Ezra. Go away.”

The blonde put his fists on his hips. “I think not! I won’t leave until I can give you the apology you deserve and tell you how much I love you.”

“I said ‘ _ GO AWAY’!” _

Now Crowley was glaring down at him from 21 meters up. It was hard to hear much beyond the rushing falls, but the naga’s anger was enough to compel his voice to be heard.

“If you won’t come to me, then I’ll just have to climb up there myself and  _ make  _ you come down!” Ezra shouted, already imagining how his muscles would ache for  _ days  _ after such a climb.

Crowley scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to see you  _ try _ ,” the naga said, unimpressed.

Ezra narrowed his eyes, swung his carrier with the radio around until it was on his back, then stepped up to the cliff face. It would be a sheer, slippery climb, but there were plenty of handholds and footholds and even several ledges wide enough for him to stand or sit on. 

His time spent exploring and swimming the island with Crowley had honed his muscle strength somewhat, so there was no doubt in his mind that he could do it.

It just wouldn’t be very fun…

Ezra could feel Crowley’s gaze on him, however, so he dug his fingers into the first crack he could find and began hauling himself up.

The redhead  _ actually  _ had the gall to look surprised.

“E-Ezra? What are you doing?”

The human found a sizable enough outcropping of rock to place his foot on and propel him further upwards, eyes resolutely trained on the being above him instead of the rapidly shrinking water below. “I… I warned you, dearest,” he panted. “I’m coming up there.”

Crowley didn’t say anything, but continued watching Ezra scale the cliff face. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after several minutes and another few metres.

Now Ezra was halfway up.

“B-because I - hold on a moment, this is harder than it looks. Ugh… Anyway, it’s because I  _ love  _ you, you silly serpent, and… and I want to  _ prove  _ it,”

Ezra smiled at Crowley’s bitter bark of a laugh. “Showing off your rock-climbing skills is a dumb way to do it.”

The human pulled himself up onto a ledge that allowed him to catch his breath, even pressed as close to the cliff face as he was. By now, he was close enough to touch Crowley if the both of them reached for each other.

Ezra groped blindly at his back for a moment, before producing the radio to hold out. “I… I brought this so-”

“To rub it in that you called for ‘rescue’ from the  _ big bad monster _ ? That’s low, Ezra, even for you,” Crowley fisted his hands in the dirt at the edge of the waterfall.

Ezra held up his finger in the universal gesture of “give me a moment to catch my breath”.

Then, “ _ No  _ you stubborn fool! I never called for rescue in the first place! I brought it so I could show you that I choose you above everything else. May God and my family forgive me for this, but if I can’t take you with me, then I’m not going  _ anywhere _ !”

Saying so, Ezra swung the radio at the cliff face with all his strength.

The device’s casing dented under the force of the blow, and something inside shattered. He continued smashing it against the wall until half the knobs popped free and sparks were shooting from the ruined speakers. He held it up for Crowley to see, before letting it fall to the jungle floor with a “good riddance!”

Crowley was wide-eyed and staring in mute, slack-jawed astonishment.

“ _ Ezra  _ wha- why would you do that?” he asked, filled with disbelief.

“Like I said, my love, I choose you. You wouldn’t believe me when I said I wouldn’t contact the other humans or leave you, so I had to prove it. A small sacrifice, really, though I  _ will  _ miss music,”

Crowley stiffened, looking frantic. “B-but- you- I- what about your  _ family _ ? You’d miss them!”

Ezra rested his chin against the cool, wet stones of the cliff. “Yes, I would. I already do. But as you said, they’d have just tried to take me back. I hope, one day, they can make peace with the decision I made.  _ I  _ already have.”

He was silent for a moment, before lifting his prussian-blue eyes to meet Crowley’s. “You don’t need to forgive me or take me back after I lied to you for so long, my love. I can go back to living on the beach, happy to have at least shown you how loved you are. Maybe, one day, we can even be friends again.”

Crowley made a noise that was half sob, half laugh that quickly became full-on, joyous weeping. He laid flat on his stomach to dangle his arms over the edge, reaching for Ezra.

“I don’t  _ want  _ to just be friends! I want  _ you _ ! All of you! My mate,  _ my  _ angel!” he choked on happy tears.

He was laugh-crying again, and Ezra was no better.

The blonde stood on the tips of his toes and reached for his love with a watery smile.


	12. Reichenbach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema's Rescue Team makes their final preparations (Also: Smut! Starts after Crowley says he can't sleep and ends at the elephant pillow)

_“I don’t want to just be friends! I want you! All of you! My mate, my angel!” he choked on happy tears._

_He was laugh-crying again, and Ezra was no better._

_The blonde stood on the tips of his toes and reached for his love with a watery smile._

*~*~*~*~*

There is a well-documented phenomenon that occurs when one is suddenly thrown into a life-or-death situation.

People who have seen an out-of-control bus speeding at them, or been held at gunpoint, or been in a train accident describe the phenomenon as “time moving in slow motion”. While theories on this sensation abound, one of the most commonly held beliefs is that it’s due to the brain releasing adrenaline into the bloodstream, causing the brain and body’s perception of time to slow in order to properly react to the crisis at hand. Another theory posits that the “slow motion” effect is caused by us simply misremembering the traumatic event. After all, during a frightening encounter, our body seeks to take in as much information as it can in order to be best prepared to keep ourselves safe, thus causing us to look back on it with more detail than we noticed at the time; hence the effect.

Neither of these theories would be much help to Ezra.

He stretched out his hands, eager to be grabbed by Crowley and pulled up alongside him, when something beneath his foot shifted _._

The ledge might have been too soggy, too weak, or some combination of the two, because Ezra suddenly felt himself falling backwards.

_Oh… it really_ is _like the movies…_

Ezra felt as if he were slogging through molasses, if that molasses was time.

He held out his hand towards Crowley, who desperately reached for him. He could see the redhead's eyes blown wide in horror, his mouth shaping a scream around the word, “angel”. Oddly, he couldn’t hear it, nor could he hear the wind whipping past his ears. It was like all sound simply ceased to exist.

The impact, when it came, was quite literally breathtaking.

Ezra’s body, back first, plunged into the waters of the rock pool at roughly 72 km/h and it wasn’t quite sure which pain to process first. The force of the fall drove all the air from his lungs and his mouth opened in a silent howl, water rushing in his nose and mouth. He could feel something in his left shoulder and lower back _tear_ as the skin of it split and bruised. Every nerve in his body felt as if it had received a sudden surge of 100 volts of electricity that buzzed inside his skull.

By that point his brain simply gave up under the onslaught.

Unconsciousness was instant.

*~*~*~*~*

Gabriel was Anathema’s next target.

She banged on his door for what felt like hours, but he never answered, despite his car being in the driveway.

_I wonder if he’s dumb enough to leave his “secret house key” in the same place I found it last time…_

Anathema turned over an _obviously_ fake rock labelled “NOT FAKE ROCK” and, sure enough, a shiny metal key glinted at her from a tiny storage compartment on the underside.

_I wonder if he knows what a Himbo is…_

Anathema slid the key into the lock and let herself into the house. All the lights were off, the curtains were drawn, and Gabriel was curled on his side on the couch, asleep.

_Poor Gabe. It hasn’t even been a whole_ day _since the funeral._

The occultist, however, had a mission. Pity and sorrow could wait until _after._ She made sure to give him a hard enough shake that would surely awaken the big lug from whatever grief-induced semi-coma he’d fallen into.

“Witch? Wha’s goin’ on?” he slurred, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“You, me, Newt, and Captain Medina are all going to the island to rescue Ezra,” Anathema said, patting his head.

Gabriel reacted to her words with a groan.

“I thought I told you earlier today to _let it go._ Is it _really_ so hard to leave me to my mourning?” he waved his arms at her and rolled back over.

Anathema pushed him onto his back and two pairs of eyes met: one blue and resigned, the other brown and impatient.

“I’m _not_ going to let you wallow here, Gabe. Not when there’s a chance that Ezra is still alive and we can bring him home,” she said frustratedly, voice laden with irritation.

Gabriel frowned angrily. He sat up.

“If you wanna go die like he did, be my guest! As for me, I’m gonna stay here and try to rebuild the ruins of my life,” he snapped.

He growled for good measure, rolling over for what he fully intended to be the final time. Anathema’s mouth fell open.

“You’re giving up? That’s it?” she asked.

Gabriel’s eyes shot open and through the haze of his emotional pain managed to shoot her a glare over his shoulder. 

“Yes,” he huffed and turned his back on her.

Anathema had no words. She tried to say something, _anything_ to convince Gabriel to come along, but her thoughts couldn’t form into a working order. 

So she settled for letting him stew.

“Fine. Go ahead. Stay here if you want, but _I’m_ going to find Ezra,” she said sharply.

Her shoulders were heaving with anger, brow pulled down in a glower as she marched back out the front door slamming it behind her.

Gabriel didn’t follow.

*~*~*~*~*

As soon as Ezra had hit the water, Crowley had dove in after him. The naga’s thick scales and powerful body kept the jump from being painful, but even if it had been it would have been _nothing_ compared to the Hell that was seeing his mate fall in the first place.

His eyes opened underwater to see the human sinking further into the depths. Thin tendrils of blood rose up through the water around him and his eyes were open, but seeing nothing.

Crowley’s tail powered him down and he gathered Ezra up in his arms to push them both back to the surface.

Once out of immediate danger of drowning, Ezra was laid out on the grass beside the rockpool.

“Angel…” Crowley breathed, shaking the human’s shoulder.

He was horrified when his nudging did little more than roll Ezra’s head to the side. Crowley jerked his hand away as he examined the body below him.

The blonde was even paler than his hair and his eyes remained open.

_God, please…_

Crowley’s hands shook violently, tears running down his face, as he rested a tentative hand on the inside of his mate’s wrist.

“A… angel?” His whisper was weak and reedy. His fingers drifted a bit further down to tangle in Ezra’s limp ones. “ _Angel?!”_

Not even a blink.

A whimper, high-pitched and broken, slipped out from between his clenched teeth as he curled his body protectively over the other’s. 

_No, no, no, no, no! Not my angel… not my mate. This is all my fault! I should have just come down. I should have_ listened! _What have I done?!_

A shattered sob clawed its way out of Crowley’s throat, as wet and ugly as his tears. He began babbling nonsense words and syllables, nothing even truly coherent, before a howling wail sent his entire body into spasms.

_I killed my mate. I killed him! Forgive me, angel, forgive me!_

He gagged under the weight of his guilt as spittle dribbled down his chin. He was now completely blinded by his own tears and it was, in some ways, a mercy. 

He didn’t need to see those blank eyes staring up at him as if in accusation of his crime.

How could everything have gone so wrong in less than ten minutes?! Gone was the warmth of his angel’s love, replaced instead by freezing dismay at what Crowley’s own selfishness and pride had wrought.

How could he go back to their nest that still smelled of his mate, knowing what he had done? It would never be home again without his angel there…

*~*~*~*~*

Returning to consciousness was like flipping a switch. One moment it was dark, then…

_Ugh… let there be light…_

Ezra’s entire body felt thoroughly pulverized, and he was 75% certain that some of the wetness on the back of his shirt was his own blood. He tried to sit up, but his muscles refused to _move_. He gave a few experimental wiggles of his toes and fingers, relieved to see that he hadn’t been paralyzed in the fall.

His nose and throat burned from swallowing so much water, but it was a _far_ better alternative there than in his lungs. He did wish the pounding in his head would go away though…

_Wait! Where’s Crowley?!_

Against the angry shrieking of his battered body, Ezra tried one more to push himself up, only to have his left shoulder give a burning wobble and his legs to fail at supporting his weight entirely. He let himself fall limp against the grass with a wet splat.

_Oof. I recognize a shoulder sprain when I feel it[1], though the leg weakness is somewhat concerning… _

His eyes scanned the area for Crowley, and he found the redhead hunched over the demolished radio, trying desperately to… fix it?

Crowley was attempting to force the casing back into its proper shape and re-attach the dials. His face was covered in dried tears as he muttered mad, aborted sentences.

“Come on… _come on… work!_ Gotta… maybe a human doctor can… how do I… _damnit!”_

He threw it to the ground, then instantly snatched it back up after a screw rolled loose with a frantic, “Nononono! _Shit!!”_

“D… darling…”

Crowley didn’t seem to hear him, so Ezra swallowed to moisten his scorching throat and tried again.

“ _Dearest…”_

Crowley froze, then serpentine eyes gone orange from crying landed on him. Ezra tried to speak again, but his throat seized and he coughed up a few spurts of water.

It didn’t matter.

Crowley launched himself across the distance between them. He covered one of Ezra’s hands with one of his own while the other combed through sodden, blonde curls. His voice was small, but hopeful.

“Angel? Are you okay?”

Ezra furrowed his brow in consideration of the question. His back _hurt,_ his shoulder _hurt_ , his legs _hurt_ … but he wasn’t maimed or broken or dying. He nodded weakly and only then did Crowley let out a noise of desperate relief.

“Angel! Oh thank _Somebody_ I… _pleassssse_ forgive me! I shouldn’t have- If it weren’t so _stupid_ you wouldn’t have gotten hurt! I almost lost you and-” his words trailed off in a hiss.

Ezra winced. “I _am_ hurt, dearest. So I would be… be most appreciative if you c-could -agh! Could bring- bring me home? I d-don’t want to lay on the… ground forever.”

“‘Home’?”

Ezra’s fingers twitched, closing around Crowley’s.

“The _nest_ , darling. Home. Please?” He smiled a little, not letting go of his mate’s hand.

Crowley smiled back, touched. “Of course, angel. Let’s go home and get you taken care of.”

He slipped an arm under Ezra’s back only to yank it away when the human cried out at the stinging pain from it. Crowley held up his arm in front of his own face and it was stained red up to his elbow with blood. He started trembling and hyperventilating and it took Ezra repeatedly calling his name to bring him back to reality.

“S-sorry, angel, I just… are you _sure_ ? Are you _really sure_ you’re okay?”

“ _Yes_ , but I won’t be if you keep this up. _Please_ , darling, calm down,” Ezra replied, almost angrily.

He looked pointedly at his right arm and Crowley pulled him into a sitting position with it. A painful twinge rippled across his lower back and he fell forward into the redhead’s chest, unable to keep himself upright. He managed to force his right arm up and hook it behind Crowley’s neck. The left one just dangled uselessly, shoulder too sore and weak to support it.

This time the naga worked his hands under the backs of Ezra’s thighs and hoisted him up like he was carrying a box. The pain in the blonde’s back increased at the movement, but it was better than being flat in the dirt.

“I’m so sorry, angel. I’ll never hurt you again,” Crowley whispered in his ear.

Ezra brushed his thumb over his mate’s nape, smiling.

“You didn’t hurt me, dearest, it was an accident. It’s nobody’s fault… well… maybe mine for being too stubborn and impatient to find another way up,” he promised.

Crowley made a soft little sound and cradled his angel closer to him. He nuzzled the side of Ezra’s face then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Then I’ll never _let_ you get hurt again. I’m not going to let you out of my sight for a _moment_!”

Ezra felt fond exasperation rise up within him, pushing past the pain. He leaned in a little further against the warmth of his mate’s broad chest.

“You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?” he whispered affectionately.

“Absolutely,” Crowley said, utterly unbothered by the accusation and willing to take up the mantle of it.

Ezra smiled, and his pain seemed to lessen.

*~*~*~*~*

**3 Days Later**

Just after dawn, Anathema, Medina, and Newt were loading the last of their supplies onto a 9 metre long Cabin Cruiser when a familiar white car pulled up to the dock.

Newt squinted into the light of the rising sun to better see the large figure climbing out of the driver’s seat. “Is that…?”

Anathema laughed openly, sounding free, and she grinned. She ran down the gangplank to hug the man as he closed the car door behind him. “Gabe! I’m _so_ glad you changed your mind!”

Gabriel patted her back.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want your death on my conscience,” he told her. “And I… if you’re right and I _didn’t_ come…”

“It’s alright, Gabe. You don’t need to say anymore. Did you bring some gear?”

Gabriel gave her a small, nervous smile and hefted his gym bag.

“I wasn’t sure what to bring. I’ve got a couple of changes of my hiking clothes, some energy bars, and a baseball bat for a weapon. Think that will be enough?” he admitted.

“Something’s better than nothing. We’ve got more supplies on the boat,”

Gabriel peered over her shoulder at the cruiser bobbing gently in the water. “Isn’t it a little small for four people?”

Anathema threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “It’s big _enough,_ Your Majesty! Might be a little cramped regarding overnight accommodations, but it’s better than sleeping in a _monster-infested jungle_ in only a _tent!”_

Back on deck, Newt shuffled uncomfortably at the mention of ‘monster-infested jungle’. Gabriel sighed in resignation.

“Alright, alright, no need to get fussy. How long will it be before we reach the island?”

“Five hours. If we leave now, we should be there around noon. Plenty of daylight to search the island before coming back to the boat to sleep,” Medina replied, sounding every inch like the seasoned Naval Captain the group knew him to be.

“Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s go rescue Ezra,” the younger Fell brother declared, looking determined for the first time in a month.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra’s wounds were numerous, but treatable with plenty of rest and some remedies that Crowley knew. The bruises and sprained shoulder would heal in time, but the torn muscles in his lower back made walking impossible for the first two days, but on the third Ezra was able to wobble unsteadily to his feet and _not_ collapse. Any time his pain flared up, Crowley was there either trying to force some weird orange-colored concoction down his throat for the muscle inflammation or smear it on his back for the cuts. It was powdered turmeric, dried chili peppers, and a crushed herb he’d nicknamed “Cat’s Claw” mixed with spring water. 

And it was _spicy!_

The first time he’d swallowed the medicine, Ezra had started tearing up and fanning his tongue. The first time he’d had it _rubbed into his open cuts_ , well…

...the less said about _that_ the better.

Much to his chagrin, however, the medicine _had_ proved effective, so he bore the fire and burning with as much grace as he could muster (which wasn’t a whole lot).

The first two days after his “spontaneous” Sherlock-over-the-Reichenbach-Falls-esque dive, Crowley’s sisters had been _smothering_ in their presence.

Blanche was nearly _apoplectic,_ hissing furiously at both Crowley _and_ Ezra for their dramatics in equal measure until she ended up having a small fit in the middle of the nest and needed to take a nap to calm down.

Sophia didn’t make much in the way of sounds (she never did) beyond a cautious rattle every few hours to jerk Ezra out of sleep to make sure he was still breathing.

Rose kept regurgitating prey that she had caught in an attempt to “feed” him until Crowley had put his tail down with an affronted, “ _I can hunt for my mate well enough on my own, thank you!”_

Poor, sweet Dorothy had simply curled up on top of Ezra’s head and kept making little noises that, if he didn’t know any better, sounded like sniffles.

Finally, on the evening of the second day, when Crowley had attempted to hold his angel close for a cuddle, only to find every inch of Ezra taken up by his sisters, he’d shooed them out of the nest yelling, “ _Don’t you have your own dens to go home to?!”_

Ezra was secretly grateful for Crowley’s intervention; he’d been dying to be able to rest without having to worry about clingy serpents. Such a dream was not to be, however, as the minute Crowley’s sisters were out of sight, the redhead had looped his coils around Ezra several times over and clung to him like a limpet.

The human had protested, of course, but that only seemed to make Crowley want to cleave himself to Ezra’s side further until the blonde was laying spread-eagle with arms and legs encircled by a powerful tail and the naga sprawled across his chest with face tucked up under his chin, one hand raking through pale hair and the other petting his side.

They’d fallen asleep like that and woke in the exact same position on the fourth day.

Ezra’s eyes fluttered open and he looked down at his chest where Crowley had, apparently, been watching him sleep. “Dearest, you don’t have to keep standing guard like this. I’m not going to suddenly drop dead.”

Crowley was silent for a moment, his face a mask of consideration, then he shook his head.

“Nope. Not risking it. Not until you’re better. Maybe not even then,” he said and buried his face in the column of Ezra’s throat.

“Darling, _please_ get some rest. You haven’t slept in _three days_! It’s starting to affect your speech!” the human begged, navy-blue eyes wide with concern.

Crowley made a noise of objection. Ezra took in the sight of him. Crowley had barely ate, hadn’t gone back to the rockpool to bathe, and refused to sleep a wink! His hair, normally so luxurious and thick, was now matted with tangles and his eyes were wild with the look of the over-stressed. Even his _skin_ was looking dull and lacklustre!

Ezra managed to wiggle his arm free to gently tilt Crowley’s face up to look at him. “You won’t be able to take care of me if you end up collapsing from exhaustion, my love. You need to look after _yourself_ too.”

Crowley’s eyes darted around their nest, frantic.

“I… I _want to_ , angel, I do, but… I can’t calm down enough to fall asleep. I’m just too- too-”

“Scared?”

Crowley croaked out a tiny “yeah”, then hid his face again. Ezra’s smile curled up at the corners, cat-like, and then he freed his other arm to cup the sides of his love’s face and reveal it again.

“I know what will help,” he purred.

“What?”

Ezra stroked the other’s cheek with his thumb, then pressed their lips together. Crowley yielded to it immediately, allowing his mate’s tongue entry. Their tongues swiped against each other and the redhead moaned desperately, breaking off the kiss when he needed to catch his breath.

“Angel, what’re you-?” he slurred, and Ezra laughed affectionately at his moony expression.

“I always find a little… _oral stimulation_ can be quite useful for relaxation. Although…” he reached down to lightly dance his fingertips across the slit where Crowley’s hemipenes would (hopefully soon) emerge. “...I’m not sure I can get them _both_ in my mouth at the same time. I suppose I could just use my hand for the other.”

“But I… what if I hurt you? You shouldn’t be doing anything too… ya know! Taxing!” Crowley protested weakly. 

Ezra smirked and tucked his good arm behind his own head like he was simply lounging on the beach.

“I suppose you’ll just have to do all the work, then, while I lay back and let you fuck my mouth,”

Crowley’s eyes bugged out.

Then he scrambled awkwardly to capture the blonde’s mouth again in a longer kiss than the previous one. Ezra threaded his fingers through Crowley’s carmine hair and the naga was unable to resist sneaking a hand down to grope playfully at the human’s backside.

“ _Angel,”_ Crowley’s voice was soft, but entreating.

Ezra moaned at hearing his pet-name spoken with such _need_.

“Come on then,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I know you’re ready. I am too, so get over here.”

“But what about you?” Crowley murmured, kissing the curve of his mate’s ear in a way that he knew would get him to shiver.

“If you want to return the favor later, you can, but right now this is about you,” Ezra whined as he tried to buck Crowley off of him to move up near his face, instead.

“Deal,” 

Crowley’s breathing was frenzied. He performed a complicated maneuver wherein the bulk of his tail was bunched up by Ezra’s head, but the rest of him was able to hang over, supported on his arms. His hemipenes were so _tantalizingly close_ and the blonde licked his lips to moisten them. He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out in what could not be described as any _but_ a blatant invitation.

Crowley’s left cock slid in slowly as the one on the right brushed against the side of Ezra’s face. The blonde shielded his teeth with his lips, already feeling gloriously _used._ He instantly began drooling as the taste was unlike any he’d had before; the regular salty, slightly bitter taste of pre-cum was still there, but Crowley’s cocks’ naturally-occuring slickness gave it a bit of a richer taste, almost umami-like.

Ezra made a delighted noise, like he’d discovered a new menu item he would enjoy, and the naga above him hissed with pleasure at the vibration.

He patted Crowley’s hips to let him now it was okay to start moving, and the redhead did.

Crowley’s thrusts were cautious, making sure not to further injure the delicate human beneath him. Ezra, meanwhile, licked at the underside of the shaft and swirled his tongue around it. The weight and thickness of the cock in his mouth fit perfectly as he lifted his head a little to try and draw it deeper into his throat. 

Suddenly a hand squeezed at his nape, yanking his head back down to the pillows and halting his attempt. 

Crowley growled, “Ssssstay _still_! You wanted me to do all the work? To fuck your gorgeous mouth? Well don’t move and just take what I give you!”

Ezra’s eyes widened at the sudden display of dominance before closing them with a desperate groan. Though Crowley’s words would be threatening in any other context, Ezra could hear the concern that drove them; his mate didn’t want him moving any more than he had to and potentially re-injuring himself.

The redhead’s hips stilled and Ezra wanted to cry from the lack of movement inside his mouth and against his face.

“Are you gonna be good for me? Are you gonna hold still and let me take what _I_ want?” Crowley snarled.

Ezra’s eyelashes fluttered open and he nodded slightly. To demonstrate, he even stopped moving his tongue. Crowley’s hand moved from the back of his neck to caress his hair.

“ _Good_ mate,” He pulled out until only the head remained sheathed inside that wet, velvety mouth, then pushed fully forward until Ezra’s nose was pressed up against Crowley’s stomach.

Their eyes met and the redhead groaned as he continued his pace, faster than before.

Ezra could feel the cock rubbing against his cheek smear pre-cum on his skin and he knew that his mate was close. He hummed around the one in his mouth to speed the process along.

He’d always enjoyed giving blowjobs. 

The taste wasn’t always his favorite (depending on what his partner’s diet had been beforehand) but the feeling of being stuffed full and _choked_ always made him feel gloriously filthy. It was a far cry from how he normally presented himself, all fussy and polite. To him, it added an extra level of debauchery to the whole act that was just too good to resist.

Crowley’s thrusts suddenly became erratic in their depth and tempo.

“Angel, can I-?” he gasped. “Inside?”

Ezra made a frantic noise of consent and the naga pushed in one final time as he climaxed with a guttural moan. The blonde managed to swallow every drop in his mouth, but the cock pressed to his cheek coated the side of his face with white and dripped onto the pillow beneath.

Crowley yanked his softening cocks away so fast that Ezra’s teeth clacked together.

“Oh no! The elephant cushion!”

Still a little hazy from his cock-sucking high and reveling in the soreness of his jaw, Ezra turned his head to see what had gotten his lover so upset.

Then he too cried out, “Not the elephant cushion!”

The square, pinkish-red colored pillow was now stained liberally with strokes of cum. The grey, cartoon elephant on its surface stared up at them with mournful, betrayed eyes.

It was such a tragic sight that all Ezra could do was burst into laughter. Crowley soon followed behind, before ripping off a scrap of one of the more tattered blankets of their nest to clean up the poor elephant _and_ Ezra.

“How does one even properly _wash_ a pillow with no case?” The redhead tossed the item in question to the corner.

“With plenty of soap and water, I imagine. But my legs aren’t really strong enough to make it to the rockpool and _you_ need to sleep, so we’ll just write dear Babar off as a lost cause,” the human replied, sounding amused.

Crowley concurred, then returned to his spot in the nest. He buried himself under the mass of as-of-yet undefiled pillows and curled his body around Ezra until only his eyes were visible. Ezra chuckled and reached under to pat whatever part of his mate he could reach. “Feeling a little ‘burrow’-y, my love?”

“Mhm. Thanks, angel, for the… you know. I feel like I could sleep for 100 years straight now,” the naga replied.

It was tricky with his injuries, but Ezra was able to squirm a little until he made a comfortable divot in the nest for himself.

“You needed it, dear. Hopefully now you’ll be able to get some rest,”

“What about you?”

Ezra reached under a larger pillow an arm’s length away and produced an english-translated copy of “ _Notre-Dame de Paris”_. 

“I’ve got something to keep me occupied until you wake up. For now, just try to sleep. I’ll wake you if I need anything,” The blonde man opened his book to where he had previously left off.

Crowley watched him read until the lure of sleep became too much to resist. He yawned, unhinging his jaw for half a second, then finally closed his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

1During a Nativity Play, after the curtain call when the time came for the actors to take their Final Bow, Ezra had bowed _too_ low and tripped forward off the stage to crash on top of a set of empty folding chairs, thus spraining his shoulder.[return to text]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note (Who is Also a Trained Medical Professional): According to physics, a human in reasonably good shape can ABSOLUTELY survive a fall from 70 feet up into water, but not without injury. Also, Vasovagal Syncope (fainting) can occur when the body experiences fear/severe pain and is typically accompanied by pallor, sweatiness, and eyes remaining open.


	13. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema and Co. finally make landfall...

At approximately 12:20 p.m., on a cloudless summer afternoon three days after the funeral of Ezra Fell, a Cabin Cruiser bearing two sea Captains, an occultist, and the last potentially surviving member of the Fell family pulled up to an abandoned island.

Medina piloted the boat as close as he could to the shoreline. “Captain Newt, drop anchor. Gabriel, get the raft ready. Any further up and we risk running aground.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

“Yeah, sure,”

Both men set out to their assigned tasks and Medina came to stand beside Anathema at the bow.

“I’d hoped I would never have to come back here again,” he sighed, running his fingers along the railing. “I still have nightmares about that monster, you know?”

“It’s really brave, what you’re doing. You’re risking your life  _ and  _ your job to help people you barely know,”

“Hey, what kind of soldier would I be if I let some giant monster roam free?” Medina joked nervously.

Anathema took a peek inside his aura. The Deception was still there, but faded to a muted lavender color instead of a royal purple. It was also threaded through with tendrils of rosy pink - Embarrassment - and the sickly orange of Fear.

_ He’s scared. But he’s also self-conscious about something he doesn’t want the rest of us to know. It’s almost like… _

Anathema put on her best friendly smile and, still peering into his aura, asked, “Tell me, what did you like best about Ezra’s book  _ ‘Glass Bones and Paper Skin’ _ ?”

The core of Medina’s aura pulsed with a glittery, golden light.

“I can’t decide, actually! Dashing Starlight as a character was great, but I also love how obvious it was that Fell put so much work into researching his book!”

As Medina rambled on, Anathema watched the golden light swirl inside his aura. It wasn’t much, more of a passing Attraction, but the occultist could imagine it growing into something more.

_ Assuming Ezra’s alive, I wonder if he would be mad at me if I gave Medina his number… _

*~*~*~*~*

Inside a cave, only three kilometers into the jungle from the beach, Ezra had dozed off to join his love in a nap and he and Crowley slept on. Neither of them noticed the island’s subtle warning that strangers were approaching, carrying with them the taste of tears, the sounds of church bells, and the feel of clasped hands.

*~*~*~*~*

Newt, Gabriel, and Anathema stood together on the beach as Medina paced back and forth in front of them.

“Alright people, weapons check! Let’s see what we’ve got!” he commanded.

Anathema pointed to a jagged-tooth bread knife holstered in the loop of her belt. Medina held out his hand for it and when she passed it to him, he hucked it into the ocean. “Bread knives are good for slicing sourdough, but little else.” He pulled a combat knife out of his boot and pressed it into her hands. “For stabbing, keep it simple. It didn’t do a lot of good for me, but maybe you can get close enough and take out the monster’s eyes.”

Anathema looked like she wanted to protest losing her favorite kitchen knife, but acquiesced with a grumble.

“I’ve got a bat. How much good will that be?”

Gabriel palmed his weapon, testing the impact. Medina eyed it appreciatively.

“Louiseville Slugger. Nice quality, those. Won’t stand up to repeated use against a skull, but should be enough to deliver a concussive blow with those arms of yours,” The naval captain came to a stop in front of Newt. “And what have you got, Captain Newton?”

Newt sheepishly held out a long, thin hatpin the length of his hand.

“Just this, I’m afraid. At Ezra’s funeral, a nice lady named Tracy was told to give me this by her husband. Something about ‘testing for witches’?” Anathema scoffed at Newt’s words. “I’m not one for violence, so this was all I could think to bring.”

Medina clomped over to their raft pulled up onto the beach, picked up one of the fiberglass oars, and thrust it in Newt’s direction.

“This is a little less useless than that pin. Can’t really do any damage, but should distract the creature if you give it a few whacks,”

“What do  _ you  _ have?” Anathema demanded, still a little upset about her bread knife.

Medina slung the gun off his back and pointed it at the ground. Newt and Gabriel scrambled back with a curse, but Anathema just arched an eyebrow with approval.

Medina adjusted his hold. “M5 Carbine. Standard issue ordnance for the Coast Guard. Has quite a bit more kick than a pistol, as well as more ammo, so it should manage to do some damage.”

Newt looked at the weapon, then the edge of the jungle. “I, personally, feel a little better hearing that. Where should we start looking?”

“We follow the same route that my team took. It’s how we came across the monster. Assuming it shows up again, I can kill it and then we can continue the rest of the search in safety,” Medina said, voice level. “Your own weapons are more for self-defense than anything. Let  _ me  _ try to take it down and if something happens to me, run back to the ship.”

Gabriel was already setting off for the treeline at a decent clip.

“ _ The others  _ can go back, if you die. Me? I’m not leaving until I have my brother back,”

Medina wanted to call the younger Fell an idiot for thinking that way, but he also couldn’t blame him for doing so. Instead, he jogged up to Gabriel until he was marching ahead of him.

“I’ll take pointe,” the Captain said quietly. “Everyone else stick close behind. Don’t lose sight of each other, keep your eyes peeled, and your ears sharp. We don’t know  _ what  _ to expect…”

*~*~*~*~*

It was a long, slow, hot,  _ humid _ hour that passed by as the four humans slogged their way through the undergrowth.

Then Anathema spotted the cave.

She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the tropical sun. “Hey, do you see that?”

“That could be where Ezra’s been taking shelter!” Gabriel suggested hopefully.

Medina checked the magazine of his gun, then aimed down the sights.

“Could  _ also  _ be the monster’s lair. Get behind me and move quietly. Be ready to run if you have to,” he whispered.

Gabriel, Newt, and Anathema followed at Medina’s back like a trio of ducklings and they all took their first steps into the cave mouth. The interior was cooler than the outside, with glowing moss covering the walls. Each of them treaded carefully, making sure their steps didn’t echo in the cavern and give away their position.

The first antechamber of the cave was enormous, with a high-vault ceiling dripping in stalactites. Newt eyed them warily, as if scared they might suddenly plunge down to impale them. The room funnelled into a winding tunnel, then split off into two directions at a perpendicular angle. The first direction stretched further towards the back of the cave, but the one on the left…

Medina rounded the corner and froze so suddenly that he was nearly bowled over by the other three.

_ Ezra was alive! _

The author lay sprawled out his back amongst a truly staggering number of pillows and blankets. He was deeply asleep, with a book open on his chest which rose and fell steadily with tiny breaths.

“Ez-!”

Medina clapped a hand over Gabriel’s mouth, stifling the man’s would-be shout.

“Ssh ssh ssh!  _ Listen _ ,” the captain whispered.

The group didn’t need to strain their ears to hear it. Above the sounds of Ezra’s slightly whistley breathing, there was another noise.

It was slower, deeper, like the respirations of a large creature punctuated with ragged hissing.

“The monster’s close,” Medina murmured.

Then, from underneath the pile of cushions, they all saw a pair of golden yellow eyes snap open.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Intruders! _

Crowley nearly reared up to strike, to  _ defend  _ his home and his mate, when he heard Ezra make a pained little sound from his sleep. The other humans, all four of them, caught the sound and looked at his angel with unabashed worry, but didn’t do anything more.

They were scared of Crowley.

They were scared  _ for  _ Ezra.

_ Maybe they can… _

Crowley lifted himself slowly, while still keeping his tail looped around Ezra. Captain was back, and pointing a strange weapon right between Crowley’s eyes. Some nervous-looking human was clutching an oar like his life depended on it and the naga could  _ hear  _ the way his teeth chattered. The woman of the group hadn’t even gone for  _ her  _ weapon and was just staring at him in a mixture of horror and fascination. The fourth and final member held a bat aloft and glared with such  _ hatred. _

The five of them did nothing. Nobody made a sound.

Then Crowley lowered himself back down to Ezra’s side, sprawled across his chest to hold the blonde, and said in a quiet voice, “Help him.”

Captain lowered his weapon a litte, and the other three jolted in shock. No doubt it was quite surprising to hear a “monster” speak. Crowley caressed his mate’s face.

“There was an accident,” he sighed. “Ezra got hurt. I’ve been taking care of him as besssst I can, but maybe you humans have some medicine or something that can speed up the process?”

Crowley kept his voice soft enough to not wake the sleeping human beneath him, but it was a struggle to do so. 

The redhead was  _ terrified.  _

He had no doubt that Ezra would choose to stay with him, even in the face of these  _ new  _ rescuers, but he was scared that they might  _ force  _ Ezra to go with them. Crowley didn’t want to lose his angel, but he also didn’t want to kill these other humans and risk depriving his mate of what would surely be much-appreciated medical intervention.

It was a Catch-22 and all Crowley could do was cling to one of the few good things he had in his life and pray desperately that it wasn’t all about to be ripped away from him.

*~*~*~*~*

When Ezra woke up, it was to the sight of a gun barrel aimed right for Crowley’s forehead. Adrenaline spiked through his heart and he lurched upright with a scream of, “ _ No! Don’t hurt him!”  _ which immediately distorted into a cry of agony as the muscles in his back protested violently against such sudden movement.

Instantly Crowley’s arms were around him, gently coaxing him to lie back down while shushing him and whispering comforting reassurances.

“It’s okay, angel. It’s okay. Ssh, ssh, don’t hurt yourself. Please, love,”

Ezra was hyperventilating, trying to drag his own body in front of Crowley’s to act as a panicky human-shield.

“N-no! Please! Leave him alone! I’ll do whatever you want, just  _ please  _ don’t hurt him!” he begged.

“ _ Ezra!” _

_ “Ez!” _

Ezra’s breathing stopped  _ completely  _ when he heard two voices he never thought he would again. The man holding the gun was shoved roughly aside and Gabriel and Anathema were suddenly there, each one trying to talk over the other.

“ _ Ohmigod, Ez! I was right! I knew you were alive! Holy fucking shit things have been a mess without you and-” _

_ “Ezra! Ezra!! Oh thank you God my brother’s alive! Thank you! Thank you!” _

Ezra felt Crowley’s hold around him tighten and was grateful for it, as it felt like the only thing keeping him grounded in reality.

“How… how are you two here?” the blonde asked, staring up at everyone confusedly.

“ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE THE GIANT SNAKE MONSTER IN THE ROOM?!” shrieked Captain Newton.

Gabriel and Anathema’s smiles melted off their faces faster than an abandoned ice cream on a hot day and then they both grabbed Ezra’s arms to pull him away. He howled at the feel of his sprained shoulder being tugged on, and then Crowley was suddenly shoving the two of them away with his tail while clutching him closer and snarling, “ _ Get your fucking hands off him!” _

The man with the gun aimed his weapon again and Ezra screamed, “ _ EVERYBODY JUST STOP!! _

Luckily, they did.

Gabriel and Anathem froze from where they were sprawled on the ground, Crowley ceased his growls (but didn’t let go), and even the man with the gun lowered his carbine. Ezra made sure to make eye contact with  _ every single one of them _ before asking, “What’s going on? Who are you?” he pointed at the man with the gun. “And how are you three here?” He looked at his brother, best friend, and the former sailing-trip captain.

“We… we came to rescue you,” Anathema was pulled to her feet by Captain Newton and she, in turn, did the same for Gabriel.

Crowley’s face fell and his hold on Ezra loosened. “Angel, you… you said that you didn’t call anyone…”

“I  _ didn’t!”  _ Ezra took his mate’s face in his hands. “I  _ never did _ , love! I  _ swore  _ to you!”

“He- he didn’t, actually. Nobody contacted us, we just tracked him down,”

Every set of eyes in the room turned to look at Newt who was still trembling, but much less so now that the worst of the chaos had died down. Crowley looked back at Ezra, who had tears in his eyes.

“No,  _ no _ , my angel. Don’t cry. I’m sorry for thinking-”

“ _ I’m sorry _ , my dear. You have  _ every  _ right to not trust me after-”

“But I  _ do  _ trust you! My self-doubt just got the better of me and I-”

“I  _ chose _ you, Crowley. I will  _ always _ choose you and-”

“Can one of you tell me what the  _ fuck  _ is going on here?!” snapped the man with the gun. “ _ How  _ are you alive, when  _ he  _ told me-”

“Shut  _ up _ , Medina!” Gabriel crowded into his personal space. “Who gives a flying fuck how Ezra’s  _ alive?!  _ He just  _ is  _ and that’s good enough for me! _ ” _

The armed man, Medina, looked ready to open his mouth and start the madness up again when Ezra shouted, “I’ll tell you all everything  _ if  _ you  _ stop fighting and put that gun away!” _

Gabriel looked at his brother.

“Y-you’re right, Ezra. I’m sorry. We’ll calm down,” he sighed.

Medina didn’t seem totally onboard with going unarmed, but Anathema shot him a glare and he obeyed, if reluctantly. He slipped it back onto the sling at his back. Ezra relaxed visibly now that his mate was no longer in danger of having his brains blown out, and tossed a pillow to each person. “Here. Take a seat.”

The humans did so, sitting cross-legged like a bunch of kindergarteners about to be read a book before naptime. Ezra and Crowley shared a pointed look, then the blonde asked the gathered rescue team, “What do you want to know?”

The room instantly erupted into questions and Ezra scrambled backward under the onslaught to be caught against his mate’s chest.

“Hey!  _ Hey!!  _ One at a time! You’re overwhelming him!” the naga snapped.

The clamour fell silent. Crowley pointed at Captain Newton. “You, Jumpy Human, what’s your first question. Keep in mind, you can only ask one until it’s your turn again.”

The captain gulped, wide-eyed and pale. “I-it’s Newt, sir, and… uh… I guess my first question is: How did you fall overboard, Ezra? Anathema told me you went to the bathroom and just disappeared.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I came out of the bathroom, you hit a wave, and I simply tumbled over the side because I couldn’t keep my footing,”

Gabriel, surprisingly, guffawed.

“Why am I not surprised, sunshine? You always were pretty clumsy. Remember when you tripped and accidentally crushed that poor, paper mache lamb?”[1] the younger Fell brother asked.

Ezra’s face burned at the memory and Crowley’s eyes narrowed. He held the blonde a little more possessively. “Who’s  _ this  _ guy, angel?”

“Oh! Apologies, dearest, this is my younger brother Gabriel,” The blonde gestured at the man with dark hair who nodded his head. “Gabriel, this is my- er… thisismymateCrowley.”

Nothing happened.

Then the room practically exploded.

“ _ WHAT?!” _

“How does that even work?”

“You- wha- huh-  _ him?!” _

“ _ EZRA!” _

Ezra and Crowley bother understood that it would take a minute or two for the ruckus to die down this time around, so they just cuddled a bit closer to make themselves comfortable while the outraged shouts petered out. 

Then Crowley, being somewhat of a little shit, pressed a quick kiss to the Mating Mark on Ezra’s neck and the room broke out again.

“Really, dearest?” Ezra whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry, angel. Couldn’t help myself. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten the chance to mess with people that  _ aren’t  _ my sisters,”

Thankfully the cacophony levelled out fairly quickly, though the air still simmered with confusion and awkwardness.

Medina, unprompted, spoke first. “Fell… tell us the truth. Did he...” his eyes flickered to the Mark, then to Crowley. “Did he  _ force himself-” _

“How  _ dare you _ !” Ezra spat out with such  _ spite  _ that even Anathema flinched back.

Crowley tried to soothe his agitated mate. “Angel, it’s okay. Calm down. You can’t blame him for thinking-”

“Yes I bloody well  _ can _ !” Ezra’s enraged eyes met Medina’s cowed ones. “Don’t you  _ ever _ insinuate that anything Crowley has done with me has been anything less than 112% consensual! I  _ wanted  _ to become his mate because I  _ love  _ him and he loves  _ me _ ! You could line up a thousand different, eager men in front of me and I would  _ still  _ want only him!”

Anathema took the liberty to peek into both Ezra’s and Crowley’s auras to parse out the truth in her friend’s statement, and she felt her heart come to life in her chest at what she saw.

The shining gold of Medina’s Attraction in his aura was like a single rusty coin compared to the Scrooge-McDuckian-Vault of gold that was the overwhelming  _ Love  _ shared between the blonde and his mate. 

Ezra’s aura had flared up at Medina’s accusations, now pulsing with the blood-red of  _ Rage  _ tied together with streaks of Protective silver. Crowley’s Love was just as heavy as Ezra’s, if not moreso, but speckled throughout with little splotches of pastel-blue Sadness like a Pollock. A tendril of mint-green Pride in Someone Else danced happily away at the center.

For Anathema, however, it wasn’t the composition of their auras that proved their devotion to one another, but the way the auras  _ reached  _ for each other. The edges of them blended together so  _ seamlessly  _ that the occultist genuinely couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

She fell back on her rear, stunned.

“He’s telling the truth…”

Ezra sniffed haughtily and would have straightened his bow tie if he was wearing one (instead of just a simple, grey long-sleeve shirt). “Of  _ course  _ I’m telling the truth. Crowley would  _ never  _ force himself on me or harm me in any way. The idea alone is inconceivable!”

“ _ Angel…” _

Crowley drew him close, their lips brushing in a gentle kiss. Ezra slid his good arm around the redhead’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. Newt made a little “aww” sound.

Gabriel, however, looked  _ furious. “ _ Are you  _ serious _ ?!”

Ezra and Crowley jerked apart as the man jumped up.

“You disappear, let us think you’re  _ dead _ , we come  _ all this way  _ to rescue you, and find out that you’ve been, what,  _ slutting it up  _ with some  _ monster _ all this time?!”

Ezra gasped, Crowley hissed, Anathema shrieked, “ _ Gabriel!” _ , and Newt and Medina wore matching looks of shock. The incensed man, however, noticed neither. “Why didn’t you attempt to  _ contact us _ ?! Send a signal fire or something? Why did you let  _ him _ …” he jabbed an accusatory finger at Crowley who looked like he wanted to bite it off. “...keep you from coming home?!”

The last word was practically screamed and echoed off the cavern walls to be met with stunned silence.

Then two words were growled out from between clenched fangs.

“He.  _ Did _ .”

Ezra had both hands covering his mouth as he trembled, tears spilling down his face. Crowley had gathered him as close as possible and now mantled protectively over him.

“He  _ did  _ try to contact you, you  _ bastard _ ,” the redhead sneered. “He  _ never  _ stopped trying to let you know he was safe. He had a radio, and was  _ all set  _ to message you, but… but I forced him to destroy it…”

Medina leaped to his feet triumphantly. “A-ha! I  _ knew  _ he didn’t want to stay here by his own free will!” 

“ _ No _ , dearest!” Ezra sobbed helplessly. “I did that  _ myself _ . To show you that I  _ loved you _ !”

Crowley looked wretched. “You wouldn’t have  _ had  _ to break it if I had simply trusted you from the beginning! If I had just  _ listened  _ instead of pitching a fit, we all wouldn’t be  _ having  _ this fight and you wouldn’t have-” His breath caught and his fingers twitched around his mate’s uninjured shoulder. “...you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” The redhead closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together.

“I  _ told you _ , my love, it was an  _ accident _ !”

“Go with them, angel,”

Ezra’s heart plummeted to his knees as ice-water flooded his veins.

“N… no, Crowley, you can’t mean that. I want to stay! With  _ you _ !” he sobbed.

“Just go. It’s what they want and you’ll be safer that way,”

“ _ Finally  _ someone other than me is starting to make some fucking sense. Come on, Ezra,”

Gabriel crossed the room, grabbed Ezra’s good arm, and started to pull him away. Crowley just let his hold slacken, not lifting his head to watch. The blonde scrabbled desperately for his mate.

“No,  _ please!  _ Crowley! I- I don’t  _ want  _ to go!  _ Crowley!!”  _ Ezra screamed, his voice cracking unnaturally.

He was too weak from his injuries to fight against his brother’s hold, and Crowley refused to even  _ look  _ at him as he was forcibly dragged away, though Ezra could see the dead look in his eyes that watered with unshed tears.

Aid came from a most unexpected source.

In one fluid motion that was more graceful than  _ any  _ of the gathered humans had ever seen from him, Newt shoved Gabriel away and caught Ezra as he started to crumple.

The blonde gaped in shock. “Newt?”

“This isn’t  _ right _ !” the bespectacled man declared.

Newt shot a look at Gabriel, silently warning the larger man to  _ stay back _ and glared at Medina in a way that was just  _ daring  _ him to try and intervene. He gently led Ezra back to Crowley, who tentatively held out his arms to accept his angel. Newt, however, lingered at giving him back.

“I don’t want to  _ ever  _ see you try to send Ezra away again,  _ do you hear me _ ?! Can’t you see that the thought of being apart from you is  _ killing him _ ?!”

Crowley made a pathetic, sad noise and nodded his head. He held out his arms a little more with a sniffle, like a child reaching for a favorite stuffed toy. Newt bobbed his head once, then handed Ezra over who gladly pressed himself into his love’s chest.

“ _ Crowley _ !” the blonde whispered.

“I’m so  _ sorry _ , angel! I  _ didn’t want _ to let you go! Please forgive me; don’t ever leave me!” the naga wept.

“ _ Never!” _

Pleased that he had righted a terrible wrong, Newt spun smartly on his heels to face the rest of the team. Medina looked begrudgingly impressed, and Gabriel was turned away with a huff. 

Anathema stared at him like she wanted to jump his bones then and there.

Newt noticed the hungry gleam in her eye and coughed nervously, already back to his old self. “I… I think we can all agree that Ezra never  _ meant  _ to upset us and that trying to force him to leave would be a bad idea.”

Gabriel glowered at him. “So, what, we just pretend this is all perfectly normal? We just pack up and go home? I’ll never see Ezra  _ again _ if he stays here! It’d be no different than when I thought he was  _ dead _ !”

Anathema stepped forward, twirling the key to the boat’s supply chest around her finger. “I think  _ I  _ might have a solution for that…”

*~*~*~*~*

Medina plopped down the heavy, clunky object in Crowley and Ezra’s nest with little fanfare. He then dusted his hands off, smiling proudly.

“ _ This  _ is the Gallapeter GTX1000. Best long-distance, battery-powered, two-way radio on the market today. Surprisingly cheap for the quality if you know the right seller,” he boasted.

Crowley poked at the gleaming metal surface with the tip of his tail, but made no comment. 

Ezra wrung his hands fitfully. “Where on earth did you get this from?”

Medina smiled and bashfully scratched at the back of his own head. “I’m somewhat of a HAM radio enthusiast. I took my personal rig with me on this rescue in case something happened and we needed to radio for help. Anathema suggested you might enjoy having the use of it and I figured that nothing else would be a worthier cause to give it to.”

Ezra patted the crook of Medina’s elbow. “Are you certain? This is  _ far  _ too generous a gift for me to accept!” he protested.

“L-like I said, they’re pretty cheap!” Medina told him, looking flustered. “I’ve got enough money to buy another, and you need it more.”

Crowley squinted, then draped his tail across Ezra’s lap. “How long will our guests be staying, angel?” he asked casually.

“Excellent question, dearest! Captain Medina, how much time  _ do  _ you have to spend here before you all depart back home?”

“A week, actually,” Medina replied, somewhat smugly. “Anathema rented the boat for seven days because she wasn’t sure how long it would take to find you. We’ve got enough supplies to last that long as well as a sleeping cabin onboard for all four of us to fit inside. Gabriel, as big as he is, might make things a little cramped, though.”

“Ooh! Camping on the open water, how thrilling!” Ezra cooed.

“Where  _ is  _ that asshole Gabriel, anyway?” Crowley asked, aiming for nonchalant but missing it by a  _ wide  _ margin.

“Getting chewed out by Anathema and Newt for that ‘slut’ comment I’d wager,” Medina carded a hand through his curly, ebony hair. “I’m really sorry he said those things. And, well, I am too for the whole… insinuation thing.”

Ezra sighed deeply. It was clear to the other two that Gabriel’s words had cut his brother deeply.

“It’s alright, dear boy, he was just angry and confused. I’m sure he’ll be back to his normal, cheery self in no time,”

Crowley growled low in his chest. “For his sake he’d better  _ hope  _ he apologizes.”

Medina’s azure eyes drifted to Ezra. “Earlier, Crowley mentioned something about you being injured and needing some supplies. Do you know what you need in particular?”

Ezra thought for a moment. “I’m actually doing alright, thus far. None of my injuries have been anything life-threatening, and the pain is managed well enough with what Crowley gives me. I don’t really need much of anything except for some time to catch up with my family.”

From outside the nest, down the hall further in the cave, Anathema’s screech of, “¡¿Pero qué coño, Gabriel?!”[2] rang out.

Medina and Crowley both flinched at the profanity, but Ezra just smiled peacefully.

*~*~*~*~*

1During the Nativity Play, Ezra had gone to kneel at the manger holding a fake (and now very much unpopped) Baby Jesus doll. On his way to do so, he had stepped on the hem of his oversized robe and tripped forward, landing hard on a paper mache lamb made by one of the fourth-graders playing the part of the Three Wise Men. The lamb had been instantly crushed and one of the Wise Men (the lamb's sculptor, presumably) started crying.[return to text]

2"What the fuck, Gabriel?!"[return to text]


	14. The Visit: Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley spends his time getting acquanited with his mate's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! Almost didn't beat my midnight deadline on this chapter! Also: more smut! (Starts at "Eyes the color of goldenrods" and ends at the *~*~*~*~*)

Medina jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the rest of the cave. “I should probably go make sure that Anathema hasn’t torn Gabriel a _literal_ new one.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Ezra smiled. “I’m not sure how long you’ve been associating with Ana, but I’ve known her for 12 years now and she’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to something that upsets her; She won’t let up.”

“ _¡Idiota!” [1] _

Medina made a sour face and even Crowley winced in sympathy. “Oof, poor guy,” the naga remarked.

The naval captain nodded in agreement, then set off to go rescue Gabriel from a bi-lingual tongue lashing.

As soon as he was gone, the temperature in the nest seemed to drop five degrees as Ezra’s face shuttered.

“How could you?” he whispered.

Crowley instantly knew what Ezra was talking about. “Angel, I… I was only trying to _help you_.”

“Haven’t I proven myself enough, yet? They showed up and you immediately assumed that it was _me_ who contacted them. I can’t really _blame_ you for thinking that, but it doesn’t hurt any less. I went so far as to _destroy_ my first radio to prove my love, and you _still_ tried to send me away the minute more humans showed up,”

Crowley winced and tried to slide his arms around his mate, to kiss away the frown, but Ezra just lightly pushed him back.

“Angel, _pleasssse,”_ Crowley pleaded fervently. “I never _wanted_ to let you go.”

“You didn’t even _look at me_ when I was being dragged off! I was _helpless_ , _begging_ , and you were going to just _let them-!”_ Ezra took a calming breath. “Thank God for Newt, otherwise I would have never forgiven you.”

Crowley reached out a hand, trying his luck again, but was once more rebuked.

“I’m _sssssorry_ ,” he hissed.

Ezra sighed and didn’t look at him. He wasn’t crying; he just looked so _tired_ . He _felt_ tired, but restless at the same time.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I can’t blame you. Like you said, you were only trying to help. That doesn’t mean I can’t still be sad. I told you once that you were entitled to your feelings, so let me have mine,” Ezra said.

Then he started trying to stand up. He hissed in pain from the effort, and his right leg was already beginning to wobble unsteadily.

“A-angel? Don’t hurt yourself!” Crowley protested.

“I… I want to be _alone_ , Crowley,” Ezra gritted through his clenched teeth. “I can’t be here right now.”

“Th-then _I’ll_ go! Don’t try to move!”

Ezra’s leg finally gave out and he collapsed with an aching cry, but was caught in a pair of strong arms before he could properly hit the ground. “Are you okay, angel?”

“No I’m not _bloody well ‘okay_ ’!” Ezra’s eyes were bright red from trying to not cry. “I’m _in pain_ and I’m confused - how the _fuck_ did they find me?! - I’m also so _happy_ that Gabriel and Ana are here, but I’m upset about what my brother said, and- and- I’m _pissed_ that you tried to send me away, but I understand, but I’m still so _heartbroken_ and I just _can’t_ -”

All of the tumultuous emotions building up inevitably came crashing down atop his head and he let out a harsh, ragged wail. Crowley was instantly by his side, gathering him up in coils and his arms while rocking gently to try and soothe him.

“Ssh, ssh, angel. It’ssss okay. You’re okay. Gabriel, wanker that he is, will come around soon. I’m sorry that he hurt you and I’m sorry that _I_ hurt you. Your family _loves_ you and _I_ love you,” the redhead comforted.

Ezra sniffled and clung to his mate with what feeble strength he still had. Every few “ssh”-es were punctuated by Crowley kissing the top of the blonde head.

“I… I’m sorry for breaking down like that. I feel so _childish_ ,” Ezra whimpered and pecked the back of Crowley’s hand.

Crowley shook his head. “It’s not ‘childish’. We’ve had a rough week. We became mates, had that big fight, you willingly sacrificed your chance to contact your family only to have them show up later, and you were even almost killed! The stress of all that would get to _anyone_ , even strong, brave, _beautiful_ angels.”

“You think I’m strong?”

The naga smiled tenderly. “You’re the _strongest_ human I’ve ever seen, and that’s _not_ me telling you you’re ‘not like other girls’. Who else would have such _optimism_ in the face of almost certain death? Who else would _willingly_ bind themselves to a creature like me? Who else would climb a cliff face just to prove a point and then practically throw themselves in front of a weapon? No one but _you_ , angel.”

Ezra hugged Crowley, then pulled his face down to kiss the tip of a tanned, lightly-freckled nose. “You…” he began gently. “...are the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

Crowley winced at being called “sweet”, but his smile didn’t fade. “‘M not sweet. But for _you_ , I think I can try,” he replied.

Eyes the color of goldenrods flitted to the entrance to their nest, then back to Ezra with a tempting glint.

“You know… I never _did_ get to ‘return the favor’ earlier…”

Crowley’s hands ran soothingly over his mate’s body and he grinned inwardly at the interested light in the other’s eyes.

“I’m not going to… you know… while my younger brother’s getting chewed out not fifty feet away,” Ezra protested, but it was half-hearted.

Crowley nuzzled his Mating Mark, kissing it softly while his fingers carded through cream-colored hair.

“I don’t hear anything…” he hinted.

Ezra played with a strand of Crowley’s hair and listened. Sure enough, the sounds of furious Spanish cursing had disappeared. The naga’s tongue flickered out. “I can’t smell them anywhere nearby, either.”

The human giggled shyly. “Do you think they went to the boat?”

“Probably. Might take them a while to get back…”

Ezra pulled Crowley impossibly closer.

“What did you have in mind for ‘returning the favor’?” the blonde asked quietly.

His question earned him a lascivious smirk.

“How about I lay you out in our nest…” Crowley began and carefully pressed Ezra down into the pile of pillows. “...and suck your cock until you scream?”

The blood in Ezra’s brain rushed from his head to his pelvis so quickly that he was left reeling and the redhead took this opportunity to slide his hands down the length of his mate’s body until they came to rest right above the fly of his jeans.

The naga admired the garment for a moment. “Black looks good on you, angel. I wonder what _I_ would look like in these, though. Wish I still had my legs…”

Ezra pouted. “Are you ever going to get on with it or are you going to simply admire the tailoring?”

Crowley blinked, remembering where he was. “Right. Sorry. My bad. Let me just…”

In a blur the redhead undid the button and zip and Ezra found his pants pulled down to his ankles along with his boxers. He was already fully hard and his cock was mere _inches_ from Crowley’s mouth.

The naga, however, looked suddenly hesitant.

“What’s…” Ezra panted. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“I… I want to do this for you, but…” Crowley looked nervous and excited in equal measure, his fingertips tapping an erratic rhythm on the blonde’s thigh.

“‘But’ what, darling?” Ezra managed to say through the haze of his arousal.

“I’ve never done… _this_ before,” the redhead admitted.

“Do you want to stop? I _never_ want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, my love,”

“No! I told you I _want_ to do this, I truly do, I just… I don’t want to mess up,” Crowley sighed, stilling the fidgeting of his hands.

“Well… you could always copy what I did to you earlier or you can just do what feels right for you or I could even instruct you as we go,” the blonde said gently.

“I like that last one. I’ll, er, _get started_ and you can just… tell me what works and what doesn’t, alright?”

Ezra reached down and patted his love’s hair. “That sounds _perfect,_ darling. Just be mindful of the fangs and I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

His head fell back and he closed his eyes. A moment later, he felt a calloused hand close around his base and the head of his cock slip between Crowley’s lips. It was slow, but warm and wet and-

_Oh, Good Lord! That_ tongue!

Ezra was helpless to do anything but grab his mate by the hair and hold on. Crowley’s technique was clumsy, artless, and his tongue moved with absolutely no rhyme or reason. Even as he tentatively began pumping up and down at his base, the naga’s mouth never descended further than halfway down.

Ezra loved him completely.

When Crowley’s tongue swiped over the leaking head of Ezra’s cock, he made a contemplative noise and did it again, this time taking him in a little deeper than before.

“Yes, my love, just like that,” Ezra gasped, fruitlessly trying to catch his breath. “Be… be careful not to choke, though.”

Crowley released him with an obscene, wet pop to stroke lazily.

“Angel, I am a _literal snake_ . I can unhinge my jaw, and swallow things whole. I’m _not_ going to choke,” he said flatly.

“Yes, yes, fine, whatever. Sorry for offending, now would you _please_ continue?” Ezra groaned.

Crowley leered, licked him from root to tip, then took him back into his mouth. The blonde peered down to watch the incredible sight of his mate’s tender hand stroking his base and his honey-colored eyes fluttering closed as he bobbed his head. The redhead’s expression was a beautiful combination of enjoyment and determination. Ezra let his head fall back and keened, wishing spontaneously that he had the strength in his legs to thrust upwards.

Crowley seemed to understand what his angel needed, and doubled his clumsy pace until Ezra twitched through a violent climax. Afterwards, the human went limp, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling for a few moments, dazed.

Crowley crawled up in the nest beside him, looking as smug as the cat that got a particularly fat canary.

“How was it? Not bad for a first time, eh?” he asked.

Ezra looked at him, the blonde still twitching slightly. “It was acceptable.”

“‘Acceptable’?” Crowley sputtered playfully, eyes twinkling. “That’s all it was to you?”

Ezra took his mate’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together and giving a soft kiss to the knuckles.

“If I tell you how good it _really_ was, you’ll just let the compliment go to your head,” he teased. “Last thing I need is you boasting to Medina about your ‘skill’.”

Crowley reached for him then, free hand running possessively over the expanse of his chest.

“Maybe I should, anyway,” Crowley grumbled with a frown. “I saw the way he was looking at you. Guy needs to know you’re firmly _off the market.”_

“ _Happily_ off the market, dearest. _Happily_ ,” Ezra corrected.

Crowley flushed riotously, but gave him a smile.

“You make me happy too, angel.” he said. “You make me happy too.”

*~*~*~*~*

Anathema was sprawled out on a towel on the beach, stripped down to her bra and panties and basking in the warm sun, when a shadow fell over her.

She didn’t bother opening her eyes as she huffed, “Gabe I _swear_ to Goddess that if you keep blocking my light I’m gonna-”

“‘M not that asshole,”

The occultist craned open one eye and flinched. The creature - Crowley, her mind reminded her - was hovering over her with Ezra held bridal-style in his arms. The blonde gave a shy wave.

“Mind if we join you, Ana dear?” he smiled nervously.

Anathema grinned and patted the spot next to her. Instead of Ezra, however, it was _Crowley_ who laid down on his back beside her. He performed a powerful wiggling motion that instantly buried his tail completely in the sand with his upper body still exposed to the sun. Ezra was sprawled across his chest, like he was sunning on a living, breathing rock. Anathema turned onto her side to face the pair.

“I have _so many_ questions, Ez!” she exclaimed excitedly.

Crowley and Ezra glanced at each other and an unspoken communication passed between them. Anathem could see it in the shifting of their auras. Crowley’s aura was a swirl of royal blue and periwinkle, Questioning and Concern respectively, and Ezra’s reached out with a pastel pink tendril of Reassurance. They simultaneously faced her.

“We’ll do our best to answer them, Ana,”

“Yeah,”

Anathema’s hickory-colored eyes darted between them.

“I suppose my most pressing one would be: How did you two meet?” she stated.

Crowley smiled at the memory, but Ezra’s aura went from pastel to rosy. Embarrassment. 

“It’s rather humiliating, actually. Much like my tumble overboard…”

“ _I_ first saw him when he washed up onshore,”

Anathema smiled a mild and patient one at Crowley. “Go on.”

The redhead went on at the sight of her clear interest in his story. “He passed out in the surf so I dragged him away from the rising tide so he wouldn’t drown or get swept out again. I watched him sleep for a bit, then he woke up in the middle of the night after getting pecked by a seagull.”

“That bird was very _rude_! I’m also fairly certain it’s the same one that keeps trying to steal my nibbles everytime we have a picnic out here!” Ezra said disdainfully.

Anathema’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Greedy little bastards, aren’t they? What happened next?”

Crowley’s hand rose to gently caress his mate’s back. The cuts had long since scabbed over, but the heavy bruising still made it tender.

“I watched him stargaze for a time and that’s… that’s when I fell in love,” he answered the woman.

Anathema smiled a little.

“That’s so cute,” she said so softly that it was almost a whisper.

Crowley closed his eyes, savoring the memory of the first time he saw his angel. He felt a soft hand stroking through his carmine strands.

“I kept watching him all through the next day. He managed to harvest a coconut, craft a spear, and even tried to light a fire! Though, I _did_ give him a bit of help with that last one,” Crowley finally said after a minute of enjoying the feel of beloved hands in his hair.

“Let me guess, two sticks and a prayer?” Anathema asked.

Ezra grimaced. “In my defense, it always worked in the movies.”

“ _Still_ don’t know what a ‘movie’ is, angel,” Crowley complained. “I know you told me that they were ‘moving pictures’ but I _can’t_ believe that. It sounds like magic!”

Anathema stared at him, shocked. “Wait… you are _literally_ a man with a snake’s tail for legs! How the _hell_ are moving pictures where you draw the line at believability?”

Crowley grumbled and would have turned his back to her were it not for the other human weighing him down.

“Well, regardless of the existence of movies, Crowley aided me by tossing a flint and a piece of steel at me. I was able to start a fire easily enough with those, though I never got the chance to properly enjoy it,” Ezra explained.

Anathema’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“I sliced my leg open on some coral,” the blonde continued. “I would have bled to death had Crowley not taken me back to what would later become our home and patched me up.”

The occultist whistled lowly. “Wow. I guess I owe you one for saving Ez’s life, huh big guy?”

“Didn’t do it for you. I did it because I didn’t want to lose him,” Crowley’s shrug was casual. “He was pretty shocked when he woke up, though.”

Ezra pouted. “Anyone else would be! Before I met you, I didn’t think nagas _actually_ existed, much less had a romantic interest in me.”

Crowley nodded.

“Fair enough,” he agreed.

“So you woke up in the cave of a beast from legend and it was love at first sight?” Anathema inquired playfully.

“Not… not really. It took me a bit to get there,”

Crowley smiled and, before Ezra could stop him, kissed him chastely. He stroked the blonde’s hand.

“He got there eventually,” the naga drawled.

*~*~*~*~*

They left Anathema dozing in the sun. 

Ezra had wanted to wake her up and drag her into the shade because “ _oh, but my dear, what if she sunburns?”_ and Crowley, always eager to make his angel happy, had buried the woman in sand until only her head was exposed.

“ _There! Now only her face will burn!”_ he stated and Ezra had been powerless to resist the hilarious mental image of his best friend waking up feeling deeply confused as to how she had gotten in this situation.

Now the couple found themselves back at the rockpool after Ezra had expressed a desire to wash off the sand and sweat from their beach lounge.

“Will you be alright, darling? I know that it might bring back some bad memories about my tumble, coming back here…”

The naga flashed him a nervous smile that was trying desperately to appear unaffected. “I’ll be fine, angel. I’ve seen a lot worse before. Will _you_ be okay?”

“I will. We can’t avoid our only source of freshwater just because of one awful accident,” Ezra chuckled, though it was clear he was slightly anxious.

“We can erase the bad memories, then. Make new ones,”

The human tilted his head. Confusion flitted across his face at his mate’s sudden suggestion.

“New memories? Whatever do you mean?”

“This is the place you got hurt and I thought I lost you, yeah, but why don’t we make it a nice place? We can bring the others here and make like a… a ‘Reunion Party’ or something,” the redhead suggested.

Ezra gasped, delighted. “Oh, dearest, that’s a _wonderful_ idea! You can invite your sisters and our families can meet and we can play some music on the radio and dance and-”

Sapphire eyes looked at him, so open and excited, that Crowley felt a surge of protectiveness. He looped around the smaller being to pull him into an embrace.

“I’ll erase _all_ the bad memories you have...” he vowed. “...both the ones you had here, and the ones you had _before_ coming here. From now on, we’ll only have _good_ memories.”

Ezra snorted, but not unkindly. “Bad memories are inevitable, my love. You can’t stop them all.”

“Who said anything about ‘stopping’ them? I know bad things happen. What I mean, is that I’ll give you so many things to be happy about instead that it’s like the bad things never even occurred.”

The blonde looked up at his mate and smiled. “Same for you, you darling thing. I may not have started out with the noblest intentions, but I promise to always do my best to make you happy.”

He leaned against Crowley’s chest, content, and rough fingers ran through his hair, carding, stroking and petting. 

_I can see why he enjoys having his hair played with so much,_ Ezra thought.

A rumbling purr pulled him back to the present.

“How about _you_ get all that sand washed off and _I_ shamelessly ogle you as you do so?” the redhead teased.

Ezra giggled and playfully smacked Crowley’s shoulder.

“You are _insatiable_ , you fiend,”

“I didn’t hear a ‘no’...”

The naga gave a waggle of his eyebrows and Ezra rolled his eyes. “Come on then, dearest. Help me get undressed and you can have your little ‘show’.”

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley gently ran the soap in soothing from Ezra’s shoulders down the length of his spine. Every time the blonde gave a little flinch of pain from a particularly nasty bruise or still-raw scrape, Crowley would press a feather-light kiss to it in apology. He continued his ministrations, slowly working his way down to the lower back. For Ezra, that was the part that hurt the most.

The blonde sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a hot soak…”

He leaned back a little into the redhead’s touch who, in turn, moved his cleaning hands to his sides to wash there next.

“There’s a hot spring a little ways from here. We can go there tomorrow after the Reunion Party, if you want,” Crowley said.

Ezra spun around so fast that he winced at the pain. “There’s a _hot spring_ here?! I’ve lived on this island for a whole _month!_ How am I just now hearing about this?!” he exclaimed.

“There’s _a lot_ on this island that you haven’t seen yet,” Crowley chuckled, somewhat cryptically.

Ezra met his gaze with a quizzical one of his own. “Will I ever see all of it?”

“Ah, er… no. Sorry. There’s some parts to this island that are too dangerous. Places I’ve only been to once and never want to go again,”

Ezra narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “This isn’t like the whole ‘monsters’ incident again, is it? Where you lie to me about what’s really going on?”

The naga looked guilty.

“No. I truly do mean it when I say I _never_ want to go back there again,” He gave Ezra a wounded look.

“Alright, dearest, I’ll believe you. I’m sorry that I brought that up again,” the blonde apologized.

“We’re never going to move on with our lives together if we keep bringing up every time we lied to each other,” Crowley pulled Ezra into his arms.

The human sighed.

“You are absolutely right, my darling. Let’s just leave all that ugliness behind,”

“Deal,”

They beamed at each other, then leaned in for a kiss. Ezra’s eyes fell closed and his hands found their way around Crowley’s shoulders to pull him closer. He pressed a bit more of his weight forward to pin his mate against the edge of the rockpool and kiss him silly.

*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, bright and early, Crowley and Ezra set out for the beach in order to invite the other four for an informal “Reunion Party” at the rockpool. Ezra’s steps were still weak and wobbly, but he was able to lean on his mate for the trip.

The Cabin Cruiser bobbed lazily on the pre-dawn waves and it appeared that none of the occupants had awakened yet.

“Do you think they’d hear me if I shouted? They _are_ pretty far out…” Ezra asked.

“I don’t think they can. Here, sit down, I’ll take care of it,”

The blonde lowered himself to the sand. “How are you going to-?”

Crowley, without a moment’s pause, dove into the waves. Ezra could see the undulations of his tail powering him through the water beneath the surface, but the naga was soon out of sight. 

Then, quite suddenly, the anchor line went taut and the boat was being dragged to the shore. Ezra watched from the beach as all four of the ship’s occupants blearily stumbled on deck.

He could hear Medina exclaiming, “What the _shit_ , Newt?! I thought you dropped anchor last night!”

Newt practically threw himself over the railing to peer over the edge. “I _did_!”

Crowley’s head emerged from the water and everyone present could clearly see the still-lowered anchor chain being held in his fist. The naga moved like he was simply pulling a kite on a windy day, and dragged the boat onto the shoreline with the sound of crunching sand.

Once the watercraft was secure, Crowley released the chain.

“See? Told you I’d take care of it!” the naga declared proudly.

Medina and Newt were huddled towards each other, trying to crunch the numbers for how much the boat _and_ anchor weighed, Anathema stared down at Crowley with a mumbled “ _holy shit”_ and Gabriel hung off the railing looking faintly green.

Ezra, meanwhile, had to fight _very hard_ to keep the aroused flush out of his cheeks at the sight of the herculeanic display of strength.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Anathema acknowledged. “Why did you have Mr. Atlas here tow us ashore at seven in the morning?”

Ezra cringed. “Dreadfully sorry about that. Crowley and I actually just wanted to invite the four of you to a little get-together this afternoon as a sort of reunion celebration.”

“So, like a party?” Medina drummed his fingers on the handrail. “Where at? The cave?”

“No, actually! There’s a lovely little rockpool that’s _perfect_ for swimming only a short walk from our nest. It’s even got a waterfall! Crowley and I can show you all the way later!” Ezra said.

Anathema pulled out her sleep-ponytail. “Hell, I’m always up for a party!”

“Good thing I took my shore leave,” Medina said, smiling at Ezra.

Newt smiled too, but tinged with shyness. “I didn’t bring any swim trunks. Will I have to use my boxers?”

Gabriel said nothing, but even he seemed somewhat curious. Ezra’s face fell a little at his brother’s indifference, but quickly returned to normal.

“Excellent, then! In the meantime, how about we all have a nice breakfast together as friends and family?”

Soon after, all five humans (and one naga) were seated on the beach in a circle around a pile of fresh-picked fruits - courtesy of Crowley - and various non-perishables from the supplies brought with the rescue party.

Ezra was settled in Crowley’s lap, who loomed over his shoulder to stare at the bizarre pre-packaged foods he’d never seen before.

“You can imagine my surprise when I found out that _these_ can actually grow here!” Ezra held out a grey-green apple larger than his fist. “They taste _fantastic_ as well! Just the right amount of tart and crispiness!”

Anathema, Gabriel, and Newt grimaced at the weird fruit. Medina, however, took it with a shrug. “Can’t be worse than some of the rations I’ve had on tour.”

The captain sank his teeth in with an audible chomp.

“Well, how is it?”

The man’s face twisted as if in agony and he dropped the apple before spitting the half-chewed mouthful into the sand where it was immediately set upon by gulls. Crowley, Gabriel, and Anathema cackled loudly while Newt just looked sorry for him.

“Oh dear. I suppose it _is_ an acquired taste,” Ezra said with an apologetic smile.

One of the seagulls, a bit bolder than the others, hopped towards the food pile. Newt made a move to shoo it away when, faster than any of the humans present could blink, a hand shot out to snatch the bird up by its throat.

It squawked and struggled violently but Crowley simply brought it to his face and sank his fangs into the base of its skull with a muffled crack, killing it instantly.

Then, to the horror of all gathered (save his mate) the naga began biting down on the creature’s limp corpse. Ezra ducked a little to avoid the spray of blood and feathers but otherwise remained unfazed. After a sufficient amount of “tenderizing” had been administered, there was _another_ cracking sound as Crowley unhinged his jaw and unceremoniously shoved the mangled remains into his mouth; feet, beak, feathers, and all.

The naga’s throat bulged obscenely for a moment as his meal made its way to his stomach.

“Good job catching that one, dearest. You didn’t get pecked in the eyes this time,” Ezra praised with a serene smile.

“Thanks, angel,”

Crowley grinned, exposing a mouth tarred with blood and down feathers.

It was in that moment, watching the naga pick the feathers of a butchered seagull out of his teeth, that Anathema, Gabriel, Newt, and Medina remembered the murdered colonists.

*~*~*~*~*

1"Idiot!"[return to text]


	15. The Visit: Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has a lot to apologize for and Crowley's family gets to meet Ezra's!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you unaware, I posted an angsty, spoiler-free one-shot of this fic that answers the question, "What would have happened if Crowley wasn't able to hide Ezra in the underwater cave before Medina and his S&R crew arrived?". It's titled, "3 Hours Earlier" and is Part 3 in this series. Give it a read if you like, but be mindful of the tags!

That afternoon, as everyone worked together to prepare the rockpool for the party, Anathema was pulled aside by Gabriel and Medina.

Well, more like she was picked up by both arms by the men on either side and shuffled out of earshot, but semantics.

“What are you two  _ doing _ ?!” she hissed. “This is  _ no way  _ to treat a lady!”

“Are we just gonna  _ ignore  _ what happened at breakfast?!” the younger Fell brother demanded.

“I hate to say it, but Gabe’s got a point. I think we all got caught up in the mysticism of it all and forgot that there’s a very good chance that Crowley’s been directly responsible for the deaths of  _ hundreds _ ,” was Medina’s agreement.

“I’ve actually given that some thought, and I’m starting to think we might have the wrong idea about things,” the occultist said gently.

“ _ How  _ can we be wrong? I don’t see any other giant snake-men around, do you?” asked Gabriel.

Anathema snapped her fingers at him.

“Exactly! Crowley’s the only one we’ve seen so far and Ez hasn’t mentioned seeing any others,” she mumbled, voice far away.

“I’m sorry, Anathema, but you aren’t making a better case for him,” Medina replied carefully.

“How much do either of you know about nagas or the Lamia?” Anathema whispered, barely loud enough for Medina and Gabriel to hear, let alone Crowley.

The two men looked at each other, then back to her. “Nothing,” they replied simultaneously.

“Alright, well, quick Crash Course: the Lamia was a woman from Ancient Greece who was cursed by Hera to become a woman with the legs of a snake. She would lure men in and then devour them,”

Medina turned curious, tawny eyes to where Crowley was showing Ezra how to braid a flower chain. “He’s got long hair, yeah, but he doesn’t  _ look  _ like a woman from Ancient Greece,” he said.

“Don’t be so quick to assume, Medina, he could be Genderfluid,” the younger Fell brother said, watching the naga.

Anathema’s eyes rolled. “Pronouns and Presentations aside, I don’t think Crowley’s the Lamia. The guy’s had every opportunity to eat Ez, and he hasn’t. He genuinely loves him.”

Gabriel gave a tiny smile. “Yeah. He does.”

Medina relaxed a little, knowing that Ezra wasn’t in any danger of being eaten. “You mentioned something else, Anathema. A naga? What’s that?”

Anathema stood up a bit straighter, looking very pleased that she had such a rapt audience for her occult lecture. “A naga’s a semi-divine race of creatures prominent in the mythology of South Asia. They’re half-snake, half-human but can take the form of a full human, full serpent, or look like Crowley. The thing is, unlike the Lamia - which is only  _ one person _ \- naga’s have an entire society; even a king!”

Medina shot her a quizzical look tempered with dawning realization. “You… are you implying-?”

“That Crowley’s the King of the Nagas? Possibly,”

Gabriel’s cornflower eyes glanced over in the redhead’s direction. “Why is he all alone, then? Where are his subjects? His people? Is he in exile or something?”

“I don’t think so, Gabe. This might sound a little crazy, but what if this  _ entire island  _ is like his Summer Palace or something? A place he can go to escape from the bustle of courtly life? It would make sense why he killed the colonists; they were  _ literally trespassing in his house!” _

Medina took in the jungle around him, looking impressed. “Not a bad-looking place for a guy who eats raw gull meat.”

Gabriel smirked. “I guess that makes my brother the  _ other  _ ‘King of the Nagas’. Am I, like, King-Brother-in-Law to them too ‘cause we’re related?”

“Nah. Ez is more like ‘Prince-Consort’ or whatever.  _ You _ can be ‘Royal Advisor’ or something equally as pompous,”

Gabriel shoved her playfully and Anathema elbowed him back, secretly glad to see a bit of his old self returning after the bombshell that was the events of yesterday.

“Trespassers or not, Crowley still killed those people. None of them knew that this place was private property, so they were innocent,” Medina pointed out.

“I wouldn’t exactly call colonizers ‘innocent’,” Anathema felt the need to say.

Medina was, largely, inclined to agree with her, but then Gabriel brought up a point that none of them had considered up until now.

“You say this island is Crowley’s Private Getaway, but what if it’s not?”

Looking very closely, Gabriel appeared somewhat nervous; his eyes never stopped moving. “What if it’s just one of  _ several  _ kingdoms? What if this whole area is actually Crowley’s ‘territory’ and  _ that’s  _ why we haven’t seen the rest of his kind. The others could be further inland.”

Neither Anathema nor Medina were quite able to see the point that Gabriel was trying to make, so he elaborated. “I’m  _ saying _ … what if  _ Crowley  _ wasn’t the one who killed those people, but one of his subjects?”

Anathema gasped quietly.

“You’ve got a  _ point _ ! From what we’ve seen of Crowley, and based on what Ezra’s told us, he’s not one to kill needlessly,” she acknowledged.

“Hello? Are you forgetting that  _ I  _ was attacked, and so were my men? He might not  _ seem  _ like the type, but he still did it! Hua didn’t deserve having six of his ribs cracked!” Medina protested.

“Try to see it from  _ his  _ perspective. Crowley’s  _ never  _ seen you before, and you come marching into what essentially amounts to be his house and  _ demand  _ to take his mate with you!  _ He  _ didn’t know what was going on, so why  _ wouldn’t  _ he defend himself and Ezra? He  _ could  _ have killed you, but he  _ didn’t. _ He just wanted you gone,” Anathema turned to Gabriel. “Think of it this way, if some strangers with guns kicked down your door and started trying to drag Ezra off, wouldn’t  _ you _ fight tooth and nail to protect your brother?”

Gabriel blinked slowly as he considered the occultist’s words. Unbeknownst to either of the other two, the younger Fell brother’s entire perspective on events had just been radically altered. He could see what he hadn’t previously before: that he and Crowley were really no different. They both only wanted what was best for Ezra and, in trying to do so, had done more harm than good.

Gabriel’s “slut” comment came rushing back to his memory and his stomach curdled with shame.

_ How could I have said that? All I’ve been praying for this past month is to have my brother back, and as soon as I get him I call him horrible, degrading things? No wonder he chose to stay if  _ that  _ was the welcome he’d receive… _

Gabriel gazed back across the way at Ezra and smiled sadly. “I  _ would  _ fight to keep him safe.”

“Do you think the naga who killed those colonists is still around somewhere?”

Anathema and Gabriel fell silent at Medina’s question, each one of them turning the possibility over in their minds.

“It doesn’t matter if they are. Crowley’s kept Ezra safe this entire time, so I’m sure that we’re in good hands until we go back home,” Anathema said, breaking the silence.

The two men nodded in agreement.

“Do you think Ezra knows? You know, about being in a relationship with royalty?”

Anathema shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think he does or he would have brought it up. Frankly, if Crowley wants to keep it a secret until the right time, it’s not our place to tell. We should respect his wishes.”

There were more nods and noises of concurrence.

“Now there’s only one question remaining…” Gabriel began grimly. “...do his subjects address him as ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Snakiness’?”

Anathema and Medina groaned loud enough to startle a flock of birds from their perch.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was pleased as punch at the party’s setup. A few empty crates had been pushed together to serve as crude tables whereupon piles of fresh fruit and wild vegetables were heaped for “refreshments”. Crowley had dragged their brand new radio out and Medina had shown him how to locate music stations. Bright, bubbly tunes pulsed from the speakers and chains of interwoven tropical flowers dangled from tree branches.

Everything had a very “al fresco” air which Ezra simply  _ adored _ .

He sat on the edge of the rockpool near the waterfall, dangling his feet into the cool water and enjoying the light mist on his face. Near the “tables”, Crowley was pointing out to Anathema some of the more exotic fruits, and the occultist was nodding along, genuinely fascinated. Soon enough, their conversation shifted to the other native plants of the island and their medicinal properties and Ezra knew he wasn’t going to be able to separate the two of them anytime soon. Anathema was practically vibrating with excitement at being able to bring home samples of uncommon flora.

Ezra smiled and lifted his fingers to touch the Mark on his neck. He was so happy to see his beloved and his best friend getting along like peas and carrots.

_ Now if only… _

“Hey, Ezra, do you mind if we go somewhere to talk in private?”

The blonde looked to his side to see Gabriel standing there rigidly.

Ezra tried to give him a smile, but it was stilted and wooden. “You’ll have to help me, then. I can’t walk far on my own.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want you to tax yourself,” Gabriel hastily replied, voice apologetic. “Is it alright if I sit here, then?”

Ezra didn’t answer, but patted the grass beside him. His brother exhaled gratefully before toeing off his hiking boots, rolling up his pant legs, and sinking to the ground to drip his toes into the rockpool.

They sat there in awkward silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. From somewhere nearby, Medina barked out a laugh at a joke Newt made.

“Nice place you and Crowley got here,” Gabriel clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap. “I bet it looks  _ beautiful  _ when it rains.”

“What do you  _ want _ , Gabriel?”

The brunette flinched, then frowned ashamedly. “I guess we’re just diving right into this, huh?” He took a deep breath. “I… I came to apologize for my cruel words.”

“Apologize, huh?”

Ezra looked like he didn’t quite believe him and, honestly, Gabriel couldn’t blame him.

“I’m not excusing my behavior, but seeing you alive and well after I’d spent so much time thinking you died in agony, well… it was shocking, and I reacted poorly,” He looked like he was about to combust from shame.

“I never did get to ask what my disappearance was like for you,”

Ezra was staring at his brother in a silent, compassionate plea; all but verbally begging him to talk about it.

“Losing you was just… just…” Gabriel’s body language was tense. “At first, I held out hope for an ocean rescue; that they’d just pluck you from the sea like a floating piece of driftwood. When  _ that  _ didn’t happen and Medina expressed a desire to call off the search, I was ready to give up too when Anathema suggested that you might be here.”

Ezra watched the woman in question nibble tentatively on a wild tomato.

“She always was awful clever,”

Gabriel tore his eyes away from staring down at his hands to follow the line of his brother’s gaze. “Yeah. It was also her idea to come here after Medina and his men failed to find you. Before they could start, however, there was that big-”

“-hurricane,” Ezra finished.

“You got it, sunshine,” Gabriel replied without a single hint of sarcasm. “‘If he’s on the island like the Witch says, he won’t survive the storm’, I thought to myself the entire time it was raging. Still, even afterwards, I had a bit of hope. After it passed, Medina and his men set out to find you. As you well know, that never happened.”

Ezra swallowed at the memory of Crowley’s inadvertent deception. Then he remembered the promise he’d made to his mate to let the past lie where it fell, and the pain instantly disappeared.

_ It’s time to make new memories. _

“What exactly did Medina tell you happened?” the blonde asked, wanting to know more. “If he didn’t find my body, why did he say I was dead?”

Gabriel sighed. “Crowley told him to tell me that you were dead and not to look for you anymore. Though, to protect his reputation, Medina told us that it was an animal attack and your remains were unsalvageable.”

“Oh,  _ Gabriel!  _ I’m so sorry! If I were in your shoes I’d be a right  _ mess!”  _ Ezra gasped.

Gabriel stopped talking for a moment, then held out a hand to pat his brother on his uninjured shoulder. “I was,” he whispered. “I was for  _ so long _ . Anathema, unsurprisingly, managed to poke holes in Medina’s story and convince him to take us here to rescue you. I didn’t really  _ believe  _ you were still alive after everything that happened, though.”

Ezra looked at him with a watery expression.

“But you  _ came _ , despite your doubts,” he said softly. “You came to save me.”

“I did, because I couldn’t bear the thought of  _ not  _ going. If there was even a  _ chance  _ that you were alive, no matter how slim, it was worth taking,”

“I’m guessing it was quite surprising, then, to find me and Crowley together,” Ezra looked apologetic.

It coaxed a weak laugh out of Gabriel.

“Yeah. I expected to find you dead at the worst, on the  _ verge  _ of death at best. Instead I found you all cozied up with your monster boyfriend, safe and sound,” Gabriel replied good-naturedly.

His smile fell. “I know that you  _ tried  _ to come home to us. At least  _ now  _ I do. But earlier, I just… snapped. I said something  _ extremely  _ hurtful and accused you of not caring about Anathema or I and that was unfair.”

“It’s alright, dear. Remember: you’re-”

“-entitled to my feelings, yes,” Gabriel leaned back on his hands. “It was the first thing you ever taught me after mom died. You told me that my grief was valid, so long as it didn’t dominate me. This time, however, I let it. And I hurt you because of that. I love you, sunshine. You’re my family, and I hope you can forgive me for being an  _ idiota _ .”

Ezra was  _ so proud  _ of his little brother’s growth that it was all he could do to hug him tight in a long-overdue fraternal embrace.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Gabriel. I’m sorry that you were hurting so much while I was gone,” he said.

The younger man gave a sheepish grin. “It’s over now, Ezra. We’re all together again and that’s what matters. In fact, I wanted to tell you that… well… Crowley’s family to me too. If he’s your mate, that basically makes him my brother-in-law.”

Tears sprang to Ezra’s eyes and he gripped tighter at the back of Gabriel’s flannel shirt.

“ _ Thank you, _ Gabriel,” he sniffled happily. “I think he would very much appreciate that.”

He pulled away. “Since we’re all one big family now, you should meet Crowley’s older sisters! They’re quite lovely!” he suggested excitedly.

Gabriel thought back to Anathema’s words about other nagas, and his own worries about there potentially being more on the island. He smiled, trying not to appear nervous. “Are they all like… like Crowley?”

The blonde shook his head and waved his hand. “Oh  _ no! _ They are  _ quite  _ different from him. You may not believe this, but they’re actually-”

“ _ Snakes!!” _ Newt’s high-pitched shriek rang out.

Ezra wiggled with delight. “Ah, speak of the devils! That must be them!”

*~*~*~*~*

Anathema watched her best friend have a one-sided conversation with a rattlesnake. She shook her head. “This… is bonkers.”

“Sophia, darling, I’m so glad you and the others could make it!” Ezra cooed.

The snake in his hands gave a pleased little rattle with her tail. The massive python curled around his feet seemed to be  _ glaring  _ at the other humans, even without any proper eyebrows or eyelids with which to do so.

“Rose wants to know who ‘these strangers’ are,” Crowley stated.

Blanche hissed in agreement and Dorothy hid her face in her brother’s hair.

“Ah, yes, silly me! Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, I’d like you all to meet my friends and family,”

Ezra held out a hand towards the party of confused “strangers”. “This first gentleman is named Carlos, though he prefers to go by his last name, Medina. He’s a ship captain!”

Medina nodded. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he said politely.

Dorothy poked her face out for a moment to look at him, then disappeared again.

“Come now, little one, there’s no need to be frightened. Medina’s a good, brave man who will surely do you no harm,”

Medina flushed at the praise and Crowley mumbled something vaguely threatening under his breath. Ezra reached up into his mate’s hair and fished out the little snakelet who squirmed fitfully in his hold. With permission from Crowley, he gently passed her over to Medina who accepted her with grace.

When Dorothy realized that she hadn’t immediately been spiked to the ground in disgust, she lifted her wide head to flick her tongue out. Medina chuckled and allowed her to wind loosely around his neck.

Feeling a little less nervous than before, Newt crept out from behind Anathema.

“H-hello there,” he mumbled, nervousness bleeding from every inch of his demeanour.

“This fine fellow is Newton Pulsifer. He’s a Captain like Medina, and has been very helpful to me,”

Newt did his utmost best to not run screaming into the jungle as Sophia took the initiative to meet him. The rattler eyed him up and down, then stuck out her tail.

“Um… what does she want?” the man asked, looking to Crowley for a translation.

“She wants you to shake her hand,” the redhead replied. “Or, you know, her tail. Snakes don’t have hands.”

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Newt gulped, then leaned down to pinch her rattle between his fingers and shake it slowly up and down.

Pleased at receiving a  _ proper _ greeting, Sohpia slithered off to find herself a nice warm rock close to the music.

“This is bonkers,” Anathema reiterated, but stepped forward eagerly.

“This stunning powerhouse is my best friend, Anathema Device. I think you’ll like her, Blanche,” the blonde gestured at her and smiled.

Blanche had never been as shy as Dorothy, as cautious as Rose, or as careful as Sophia. Therefore, the white-gold viper didn’t hesitate to crawl her way up Anathema’s pant leg to face the occultist eye-to-eye.

“Oh she’s… she’s  _ amazing!” _

Blanche preened at the compliment.

“Don’t flatter her too much or it’ll go straight to her head,” Crowley warned.

“Sounds like someone else I know, dearest,”

“Hey!”

Anathema ran a finger over the viper’s smoothe scales, openly admiring the pattern. “Would you be comfortable allowing me to take a venom sample, Blanche? I’m a practicing occultist and I am  _ salivating  _ at the thought of what kind of potent abilities a hyper-intelligent snake’s venom would have.”

The woman was delighted to find that Blanche perfectly understood her and answered with a snakey nod. The two of them immediately strolled off, arm-in-coil, conversing like sisters.

That just left Gabriel and Rose.

The two of them began sizing each other up, instantly wary of the other, though for different reasons.

“So you’re Crowley’s…” Gabriel paused to guess. “Older sister?” Rose nodded. “Ah. Well met. I’m Gabriel Fell, Ezra’s  _ younger  _ brother.”

Rose jerked her head back and forth between the two Fell siblings, comparing their heights with an expression that clearly screamed, “ _ How are you taller than him then?!” _

Gabriel, to everyone’s surprise, seemed to pick up on it. 

“It’s just like with Crowley being larger than you. Sometimes us babies just end up growing a bit bigger,”

He shared a small, secretive smile with Ezra, then jabbed his thumb over his shoulder towards where the rest of the party was having fun. “How about you and I find a comfortable spot to sit and talk about our siblings. I’ve got a  _ ton  _ of embarrassing stories about this one  _ really bad  _ Nativity Play Ezra and I were in.”

Rose looked back over her shoulder (insomuch as a snake could  _ have  _ shoulders) at Crowley and Ezra who simply made “go on, then” motions with their hands. The giant python acquiesced to her brother and his mate (which kind of made him a brother too, in her serpentine eyes) and trailed slowly after Gabriel.

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Crowley released a breath he’d been holding since the introductions began.

“Oh thank Somebody that went as well as it did!” he gasped as he placed a hand to his chest.

“Are you really that surprised? Your sisters are delightful and my family’s always been the open-minded sort,” Ezra remarked, mystified that Crowley had been worried at all.

“I wasn’t surprised, but  _ was  _ a little worried. I just wanted today to go perfectly for you,” Crowley admitted in a soft voice with a faint hiss.

Ezra looked up into the amber-colored eyes of his mate. “Even if things went wrong, today  _ still  _ would have been perfect for me. I have my mate by my side, my family visiting for a few days, and I’ve even made new friends. It, quite literally,  _ cannot  _ get better than this for me.”

“Have to agree with you there, angel,” Crowley whispered.

His arms came up around Ezra from behind and he rested his chin atop blonde curls.

*~*~*~*~*

Somehow, and no one was quite sure whose suggestion it was, the group ended up taking the celebration from the rockpool to the beach and from the afternoon all the way past sundown. Crowley’s sisters had long since returned to their dens for the night, but everyone else was more than happy to relax on the beach and watch the stars come out.

“It’s so  _ beautiful  _ out here,” Anathema sighed, awed.

“That’s what I told Ezra earlier,” Gabriel said.

They didn’t have a bonfire to illuminate the darkness; nothing but the moon and stars overhead.

“I mean, are we safe out here this late?” Newt asked, sitting up and looking around. “What about wild animals or something like that?”

“It’s quite safe, I assure you,” Ezra explained. “The predators of this island avoid Crowley. I think they see him as some sort of alpha or another.”

The naga grunted in confirmation. Newt, Anathema, Medina, and Gabriel shared a knowing look amongst themselves.

“You know what sounds fun?  _ Night swimming _ ,” Gabriel’s eyes weren’t easily seen in the darkness, but they were twinkling a little in excitement.

Newt and Medina made matching noises of disagreement.

“I wouldn’t do that. Large ocean predators tend to do most of their hunting at this time,” the senior Captain explained.

Gabriel’s smile disappeared instantly and he shuddered.

“I take it back, then. I don’t want to be eaten by Jaws,” he said quickly.

Anathema yawned suddenly, cracking her jaw in a sound that was somewhat reminiscent of Crowley’s ability to unhinge his own.

“I’m actually going to turn in for the night,” she said.

She pushed herself up out of the sand, shaking it out of her limbs like a dog as she did so.

“Yeah. Same. Thanks for throwing that nice party for us, Ezra,”

Newt stood up too and slipped his glasses back on. Gabriel and Medina followed not long after, both of them biding Crowley and Ezra goodnight and expressing gratitude for the fun day. Gabriel walked up to where Ezra was laying beside Crowley and bent down to pat his brother’s shoulder. “Looking forward to spending more time with you two tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Gabriel. Sleep well!”

“Yeah. Thanks, Gabe,”

When the last of the other humans were back aboard their stranded boat, Crowley sat up abruptly.

“I think Gabe had the right idea about going night swimming,” the redhead remarked innocently, playing with the hem of Ezra’s shirt.

A pleasant sort of giddiness welled up within the human. “I take it then that oceanic predators avoid you as well?”

“Yup. Only ‘predator’ you need to watch out for when I’m around is  _ me,  _ angel,”

Saying so, Crowley began nipping playfully at Ezra’s throat and growling. 

“You keep that up and we’ll never make it to the water,” the human purred, unwilling to actually stop Crowley.

The naga sighed dramatically and sat back on his tail.

“Yeah, you’re right. As  _ fantastic  _ as the idea of taking you on the beach under our stars sounds, there’s actually something I want to show you,” he said through a grin.

Ezra mentally filed away the idea of passionate love-making under the night sky for later, and let Crowley pull him up by his good arm. He hung off his mate’s arm and the two of them made their way to the dark, sussuring water, Ezra shedding his clothes the entire way.

Right as he was about to dip his first toe in, Crowley held him back.

“There’s something that the sea does here. It only ever happens at night and it’s  _ really pretty _ . I just wanted to let you know so you don’t freak out,” the naga said.

“‘Freak out’? Why would I freak out?” the blonde asked, a little concerned.

By way of answer, Crowley gently slid into the surf. At the first touch of his scales to the water, the surface of it erupted into swirls of glittering blue light that was bright enough to cast shadows. Ezra stuttered out his surprise as he was gently led into the water. Every step he took further away from the shore lit the sea up more and more until he was bobbing freely in the open ocean, held tight to his love’s chest while surrounded by iridescence in every direction.

Crowley grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it reassuringly. “What do you think?” he asked. “Was I right or was I  _ definitely  _ right?”

The shimmering water below, combined with the sparkling sky above, gave the effect of floating adrift amidst the cosmos, untethered by anything save for each other. If Ezra looked hard enough at the waves, he could even make out the twisting shapes of nebulae just below the surface.

He’d heard of, and read about, bioluminescent plankton that, when agitated, gave off a glow. To see and experience it firsthand, however, was an experience he never thought he’d get.

“This is… this is  _ incredible _ !” Ezra exhaled.

Crowley gently cupped his chin and turned his face to look at him. “I said I’d take you to your mother’s stars if I could, remember? Well… I hope this is close enough.”

Ezra bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from weeping like a child, though a few determined tears managed to slip free.

“It’s  _ more  _ than enough, you  _ wonderful darling,  _ you!” he exclaimed. He felt dizzy from his love for his mate.  _ How  _ was it possible to adore someone this much and  _ not  _ be driven mad by it? “You always know  _ just  _ what to do to make me smile. I… nothing I’ve ever done or given you has come  _ close  _ to this!”

Crowley looked delighted that Ezra was pleased with his surprise, but also shocked that his mate thought so little of his own contributions. 

The naga kissed him in a way that was just shy of pornographic. “Angel, you’ve done  _ so much more  _ than you think,” he whispered against his lips. “You were willing to sacrifice  _ everything  _ to be with me. If anything,  _ I’m  _ the one who hasn’t done enough. Though, if you want to do something to  _ thank me _ …”

Ezra was expecting something lewd (and was 10,000% on board) but instead his mate asked, “...could you read to me?”

It took but half a second to shake off his licentious thoughts to replace them with more tender ones.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to read to you?” he asked, smiling sweetly.

Crowley’s features softened further and he leaned his head against Ezra’s shoulder for the human to comb his fingers through dark red strands. “Got any books with happy endings? Stories where… where things always work out, no matter how different the lovers are?”

Ezra tilted his head a little to kiss him, a tender touch of lips to lips. “I have a few in mind. Would you like to start on them tonight?”

“Yes. Thank you,”

Crowley held his angel tighter, and kissed him tenderly, hands caressing softly over bruises. Ezra hummed softly, his arms sliding around the other’s shoulders.

They floated, entwined together, in a private galaxy of their own making until the glowing below faded and the only lights left were the ones above.


	16. Nothing Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra tells Crowley a story and Anathema has a frightening encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT HERE! GEEEET YER SMUT HERE! (Starts after the poem and ends at *~*~*~*~*)

“So, what’s our first story gonna be?” Crowley asked excitedly.

He sprawled out in the nest beside his mate, but looked confused when Ezra didn’t pull out a book.

“I thought we’d start out with my favorite story from Roman Antiquity,” The blonde scooted a bit closer to Crowley and held out his uninjured arm for him to rest his head on. “It was written around the 2nd century and it’s about a brave woman overcoming all obstacles to be with her husband.”

Mystified already, Crowley went gladly into his arms and rested his head on Ezra’s chest.

“What’s it called?” he asked.

“‘Cupid and Psyche’,” Ezra answered.

Crowley’s brows furrowed, confused. “Really?  _ Cupid?  _ That little baby that goes around shooting people with arrows?”

“Well, he was quite a bit more adult-looking back in the day,” Ezra chuckled. “In fact, he was oftentimes seen as an destructive, powerful force that even the Gods feared because of how much sway he held over their hearts.”

Crowley whistled lowly.

“Yeah, can’t really blame them for fearing him in that case. Who wants to lose control of their hearts?” he mused out loud as his mate gave him a fond look.

“Oh it’s not so bad, dearest,” the human said, playing with Crowley’s hair. “It certainly worked out for  _ me.” _

The naga hid his face in Ezra’s chest with an embarrassed whine.

“That was  _ awful _ ,” he grumbled.

“Do you still want me to tell the story or are you feeling more inclined to hide tonight?”

Crowley pouted heartily but indicated for Ezra to continue the tale.

Ezra smiled. “Well, our story begins with a princess named ‘Psyche’. Out of all the three daughters born to her parents, the King and Queen, Psyche was the most  _ beautiful. _ So much so, in fact, that the locals were inclined to worship  _ her  _ rather than the Goddess of Beauty, Venus.”

“Just ‘beautiful’? She’s not kind or funny or bastardly?” Crowley teased.

“Unfortunately. Thank goodness women’s literary characterization has  _ somewhat  _ improved since Platonicus’s time,” Ezra responded.

“Alright, so, beautiful princess. What happens next?”

“Well Venus, being the jealous and capricious Goddess she was, became offended by the peoples’ belief in Psyche’s superior beauty, so she sent down her son, Cupid, to force her to fall in love with a hideous monster, thus shaming the princess and her family,” was the reply.

The redhead grimaced. “‘S not  _ that  _ bad to fall in love with a monster, is it?”

“For Psyche, it was. After all, who would  _ want  _ to be with a monster?  _ I  _ wouldn’t,” the blonde said with carelessness.

Crowley flinched and his heart sank, looking away.

“Yeah. Who could blame you?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just had his soul ripped out.

Before he could work himself into a self-hating spiral, gentle hands cupped his face to tilt it upwards. Ezra looked down at him with compassion and  _ so much  _ love.

“Darling, a monster is what a person is on the  _ inside _ , not the  _ outside _ .  _ You,  _ my love, are no monster. You’re more human than any I’ve ever met before. Though, considering my species’ track record, that might not be much of a compliment,”

Crowley wanted to argue. He wanted to deflect and deny; maybe even sarcastically point at his very-much-not-a-human’s tail. He knew, however, it would be an exercise in futility, so he just sucked his lips behind his teeth and nodded.

“Thanks, angel,” the redhead said. “You’re pretty wonderful yourself.”

“Thank you, darling. So, as the story goes, Cupid descended to earth from the Heavens with the intent to fulfill his mother’s command. However, upon seeing the lovely Psyche, he instantly falls in love with her. For the longest time, he pines nobly from afar,” Ezra continued, his natural verve as a storyteller leaking into his voice.

“Pfft, ‘pining’. So stupid. Just tell her you love her. People appreciate upfront honesty,”

“If I recall, darling, there was a certain handsome serpent who spent a whole night and day watching a certain castaway...”

Crowley sighed, looking caught-out. “Yeah, whatever. Keep going, please.”

“Of course, my love. After a while, Psyche’s parents come to realize that their daughter has become somewhat intimidating and unapproachable in her beauty, as no suitors feel they are worthy enough for her and thus never press for her hand in marriage. Worried that their daughter will die alone and unloved, they consult the Oracle of Apollo for advice,”

The naga grumbled with a little hiss at the end.

“As if the end-all-be-all for a woman is marriage and kids,” he stated, resolute in his opinion. “Maybe she doesn’t  _ want  _ a boyfriend!”

Ezra was of a like-mind. “Indeed. For thematic purposes, however, Psyche was lonely and wanted a relationship,” he said. “So, after a visit to the Oracle, Psyche’s father informs her that she is doomed to be wed to a winged creature that even the Gods themselves are powerless to fight. Psyche and her family knew it would be impossible to rally against this sad fate, as the Oracle’s word was immutable, so they dressed her in funeral attire and left her atop a cliff to await the decision of the Fates.”

“Bloody Hell that’s some terrible parenting right there! Angel, when we have kids we are  _ never  _ just going to leave them on a cliff for some terror to snatch up!”

Ezra pursed his lips. Crowley’s comment about any hypothetical children of theirs left him with a flurry of questions about naga reproductive capabilities and whether or not the redhead even  _ knew  _ where babies came from. Did he know that Ezra lacked a womb for carrying a child? Or did nagas lay eggs in the sand like crocodiles and the babies hatched from there?

His mate’s gentle jostling dispersed the inquiries like so much smoke to be filed away for later.

“Right. Yes. Bad parents. Anywho, Cupid has watched this happen and he begs his friend Zephyrus, the personification of the Western Wind, to bring Psyche to him. Zephyrus does so, and takes the princess to Cupid’s grand mansion whereupon she is greeted by him. Cupid, however, has made himself completely invisible so Psyche does not find out that he is a God, and he tells her to make herself comfortable, as his home is now her home. Their relationship progresses for a time, but Cupid never drops his glamour; not even when he and Psyche eventually start to make love.”

Crowley made a sour face. “Seems a bit skeevy, that.”

“Indeed. Though, in my experience, being  _ willingly  _ unable to see your partner - like with a blindfold - can make things a bit more interesting,”

Crowley gave him a salacious grin. “Really?”

Teal eyes reflected a smile. “Put a pin in that, dearest, we’ve got the rest of the story to finish.”

The redhead’s answering smile lit up his whole face with a mischievous glint in his flaxen eyes.

“Go on, then,” he urged.

“After a while, Psyche falls pregnant. Overjoyed, she asks Cupid if he could have Zephyr bring her family to their home so she could tell them the good news,”

“She  _ still  _ wants to be in contact with her family after they  _ left her to die _ ?” Crowley muttered.

“Some people see the good in everyone, even those who don’t deserve it,” Ezra replied, somewhat fussy that he had been interrupted. “Regardless, Psyche’s sisters quickly become jealous of her happiness and try to destroy her relationship by pressuring her to uncover her mysterious lover’s true identity. They frighten her by reminding her of the Oracle’s Prophecy and warn her that the ‘creature’ might try to kill her and her unborn child. They urge her to, while her lover is asleep, sneak into his room with a knife and kill him. Psyche agrees, and takes a lantern with her that night to see by as she prepares to complete the deed.”

“That’s peer pressure for ya. You end up stabbing the father of your children because you couldn’t stand up for yourself,”

“Do cut poor Psyche some slack, darling. She was pregnant and frightened,” Ezra sighed.

“Fair enough. What happened next? Did she kill him?” the naga asked.

“No. For you see, as soon as the light from her lantern fell upon her mysterious lover’s sleeping form, she recognized him as the God Cupid!” was the impassioned answer. “The sight of his beauty was so startling that she flinched, spilling a bit of hot wax onto him and waking him up.”

Crowley giggled and patted the firm chest beneath his head. “That went down like a lead balloon, eh?”

“Absolutely. Injured and feeling betrayed, Cupid departed from Psyche and returned to the realm of the Gods,” Ezra said sullenly.

Crowley frowned a little. “I thought you said this story had a  _ happy  _ ending.”

The human stuck his tongue out.

“I never said that was the end of the story, you interrupting serpent,” came his slightly tetchy reply.

“Thank Somebody. I was about to chew Cupid out for abandoning his unborn child like that,”

Blue eyes studied him for a moment. “You have quite the soft spot for children, I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, well, don’t spread it around,” the redhead huffed. “I’ve got a reputation as a ‘fearsome monster’ to maintain. Last thing I need is Medina or Anathema teasing me about it.” He wiggled a little and settled more comfortably in his angel’s arms.

Ezra stroked over his tanned skin. “I wouldn’t  _ dream  _ of embarrassing you, my love.”

“I’m eager to hear how our heroine wins her boyfriend back,” Crowley remarked, changing the subject.

“She does eventually, but it takes a bit of work. Desperate to find and reunite with her love, Psyche beseeches Venus for aid. The Goddess is pleased to have her hated foe under her thumb, and begins setting her upon dangerous tasks that no mortal could ever hope to successfully accomplish with the goal being that Psyche will either die or give up,” Ezra assured him. “The princess’s first task is to sort a pile of beans, lentils, and grains into individual piles before dawn. Luckily, a passing troupe of insects take pity on her and sort the pile for her. Seeing the first task  _ technically  _ completed, Venus orders Psyche to gather a clump of golden wool produced by the violent sheep owned by the Sun God, Helios. A magical reed warns her, however, that the sheep will kill her if she simply tries to  _ take  _ the wool and instead instructs her to gather individual strands that get caught on the briar patches around where the flock is grazing. Once she has enough, Psyche presents it to Venus who then gives her an amphora and commands her to gather a sample of water from the source of the rivers Styx and Cocytus, which is guarded by fearsome beasts. The King of the Gods, Jupiter, spots Psyche failing to do so and volunteers to collect the water for her. He sends his eagle to defeat the beasts and then gather the water, which the bird then gifts to Psyche.”

Crowley was gobsmacked. “Does this woman do  _ anything  _ in the story on her own?”

“She  _ is  _ rather like a Disney princess in that regard, isn’t she? What with all the little woodland creatures doing her bidding and all…” Ezra murmured.

“What’s a ‘Disney’?”

“I’ll tell you later, dearest,”

The blonde gathered his mate closer. “Venus was quite incensed to see that all her attempts to dissuade Psyche away from her son were for naught, so she finally decided to simply give the mortal a box and ordered her to travel to the Underworld to fetch a sample of beauty from the realm’s Queen, Proserpina. The Underworld was a harsh, dangerous place where many entered, but none ever left, alive  _ or  _ dead. Psyche was able to navigate it successfully, though, and returned to the surface world with the box filled with Proserpina’s gifted beauty.”

Crowley stretched, delighting in the feel of all 300 of his vertebrae cracking as he flexed his tail.

“There wasn’t any beauty in the box, was there?” he wanted to know.

“Nope. Only an evil magic that cast a death-like sleep over poor Psyche when she opened the box. Triumphant, Venus left her where she fell,” Ezra declared.

“Well where the Hell was Cupid in all of this?” Crowley nuzzled and kissed a path over his mate’s chest, up to his neck, and all the way to his lips.

Ezra accepted the kiss with gusto.

“As it turns out, the poor boy was being held captive in his mother’s palace so he would not be able to go to Psyche’s aid. He had long since forgiven her for breaking her promise to never look upon him, but Venus was determined to keep them apart,” he said after the kiss ended. “Eventually, though, he was able to escape and fly down to his love’s side and restore her back to life. From there, Cupid brought her before Jupiter and begged for the King’s intercession on Psyche’s behalf to protect her from Venus. Jupiter acknowledged the powerful love between them and ordered the Goddess to stand down, freeing Psyche from her torment.”

“Did Venus agree to?” Crowley asked with a smile and kissed Ezra’s throat once.

“With great reluctance, but yes,” Ezra replied with a playful nip to his mate’s ear. “After that, Jupiter presented Psyche with Ambrosia, the divine food of the Gods. She consumed it and ascended to immortal godhood to be properly married to Cupid as equals. When their daughter was eventually born, they named her Voluptas, meaning ‘Pleasure’. Thus ends the tale of Cupid and Psyche, one of the few Greco-Roman stories with a happy ending.”

Crowley made a contemplative noise. Then he propped himself up so he could cage Ezra in between his arms and hover over him.

“I really liked that story, angel,” he said.

“I’m glad, darling. It’s my favorite!” Ezra replied.

Crowley suddenly looked pensive. He worried his bottom lip with a fang and looked around with a desperate combination of hope and nervousness.

“Do you… do you think something like that could happen?” the naga asked. “Do you think it’s possible for a mortal to become  _ immortal  _ by drinking a magic potion? Or for an  _ immortal  _ to forsake their powers and live life as a human to be with the one they love?”

“To be quite honest, I’d never really thought about it. I’m not very knowledgeable about the intricacies of magic and mysticism. Anathema would be your best bet for that, though I  _ have  _ heard plenty of tales about ageless spirits and deities giving up their immortality to live as mortals do. Apart from Psyche, though, there’s not much in the way of humans becoming as eternal as the Gods. Why do you ask?”

Crowley faltered for a moment, then said, “No reason, really. Was just curious.”

“For what it’s worth, there’s  _ so much  _ out there that I never thought was possible before I met you,” Ezra whispered, and then reached up to softly caress his mate’s face. “So maybe a human becoming immortal isn’t  _ too  _ impossible.”

The differences in their ages hung heavy in the air. Ezra hadn’t even turned thirty, but Crowley had been alive for who-knows-how-long (Ezra certainly didn’t know) and was most likely unable to start aging again anytime soon. The two never talked about it, nor openly addressed it, but the truth was there: at some point in the future Ezra  _ would  _ leave Crowley behind through no fault of his own beyond his human inability to resist the indefatigable march of time.

The thought of having only a few short decades with his love, before forever being seperated by the veil, wrenched the heart in Ezra’s chest.

_ Nature’s first green is gold, _

_ Her hardest hue to hold. _

_ Her early leaf’s a flower; _

_ But only so an hour. _

_ Then leaf subsides to leaf. _

_ So Eden sank to grief. _

_ So dawn goes down to day. _

_ Nothing gold can stay. _

The human held out his arms beseechingly to his sempiternal mate.

“Love me…” he whispered. “...while our gold lasts.”

Crowley suddenly  _ attacked  _ his mouth with lips and fangs and forked tongue, then forced his body down between Ezra’s parted legs who grunted in satisfaction at the friction. He was still as naked as he was earlier that night on the beach during their swim and has never been more thankful that he was too lazy to get redressed before turning in for the night. 

The naga kept most of his weight off of Ezra’s chest by his elbows as his rough hands tangled in soft curls and he rutted against the body below like he couldn’t control himself. “I’ll love you  _ forever _ ,” he growled.

“And I you,” Ezra gasped in return before lurching upwards for another kiss.

He stretched out his good arm to lay a reverent hand on the ebony scales on Crowley’s hip who hissed as if he’d been suddenly burned. The redhead rolled to the side and tugged lightly at Ezra’s arm for him to do the same until they were chest-to-chest, kissing desperately.

“I won’t  _ ever  _ let you leave me,” Crowley mumbled into a ticklish spot on Ezra's neck, who tittered at the feel.

The giggling turned into a surprised gasp as the redhead reached down to wrap his fingers around his mate’s cock. Crowley’s other arm was pinned beneath his own body so Ezra took the initiative to run his hands over the naga’s hips, rear, belly, and chest. Their breathy exhalations filled the air.

Somehow, amidst the lust and love clogging up his neural pathways, Ezra managed to form a coherent enough thought to point at a small leaf-wrapped bundle in the corner of their nest.

“C-Crowley- mph! Darling, I… I need-”

The request wasn’t even fully-formed but Crowley already knew what his angel was trying to say. Without taking his hands off Ezra’s member, the naga’s tail slinked out to pull the bundle closer. The human took it in shaky hands and undid it, revealing a small handful of green berries. They were roughly the size of a large cherry tomato, dark green, and slightly oblong with a glossy skin. Crowley recognized them immediately.

On the island there was a bizarre breed of non-toxic berry that was completely inedible. It had no discernible taste and the translucent juice inside was obnoxiously viscous and thick like olive oil. 

A few weeks ago Ezra had found a bush that was covered in them and asked Crowley if they were dangerous. The redhead had informed them that they weren’t, but before he could explain that they were useless as a food source, the human had already tried to eat one. Crowley had cackled like a madman when Ezra immediately spat the half-chewed remains of his berry onto the jungle floor and scrubbed his tongue with the back of his hand.

In the present day, Crowley’s arousal flagged slightly as he held one of the infamous fruits aloft and asked, “What do you need  _ these  _ for?”

“What do you think?!” Ezra huffed, face bright red. “I want you to use those lovely fingers of yours and… well…”

The redhead’s eyes lit up in sudden realization, and then smirked wickedly. “Oh you  _ clever _ little angel, you.”

The mental image of his mate panting and rocking backwards, stretched open on his fingers, had Crowley’s hemipenes standing at immediate attention. As soon as they were at full hardness, Ezra excitedly reached out to take him in hand. He started out with slow, careful strokes then sped up the pace when he felt, rather than saw, Crowley crush a berry in his hand and sneak a finger towards his rear.

Ezra let himself go a little slack to prepare himself for the first breach, but the naga pulled his hand off his cocks instead.

“Here, angel, let’s do this,”

Crowley cautiously took Ezra’s leg and hooked it over his hip so that their erections rubbed together. He began a slow, maddening roll and worked his mouth against his mate’s until the blonde’s head was swimming.

“I want your fingers inside me.  _ Please _ ,” Ezra’s tone was somewhere between demanding and begging, but it mattered little to Crowley’s whose heart expanded at either.

“Anything for you, angel,”

Ezra grinned at the feel of a well-lubricated, slightly shaking finger tracing along the rim of his hole. When it pushed in, however, he squeezed his eyes shut and hissed.

“Shit! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“ _ More!” _

Admittedly, it  _ had  _ been a while since Ezra’s last tryst. He’d spent the last several months before publishing “ _ The Mermaid’s Tale” _ in a writing  _ frenzy _ and had had no time for dates. The stretch of Crowley’s finger was a little uncomfortable, but he enjoyed it nonetheless as his body remembered this oft-done movement.

Crowley continued working him open with two fingers, then three, and Ezra briefly considered requesting a fourth, but he was already so close as it was. He cursed and writhed and demanded that his lover increase his speed.

“Impatient,” Crowley teased, but acquiesced.

He then began bucking against the blonde, who implored him with  _ faster  _ and  _ harder  _ and gripped his hips tight enough to leave a bruise beneath the scales.

“ _ Fuck yes!  _ Just like that!” Ezra cried. The coordination of doing so was a little awkward, but Crowley was able to double his efforts. The human made a truly depraved sound that filled the naga with a sense of  _ rightness.  _ His mate should  _ always  _ be making that noise!

Ezra pressed his face into his lover’s throat and licked a stripe up the length of it, savoring the taste of sweat and skin that was uniquely  _ Crowley. _ His own body felt almost unbearably hot and every tiny moan that Crowley uttered served to only increase it further. Every inch of their bodies were crushed together, he had a part of his mate  _ inside  _ him, and yet it  _ still  _ wasn’t enough.

Almost without conscious thought, Ezra fisted a hand into the naga’s hair and sucked his forked tongue into his mouth.

There  _ we go! _

He didn’t let Crowley pull away, even as the redhead whimpered and came all over their bellies. It barely took Ezra a minute to follow with a whine of his own. It would have been a scream, but his mouth was currently occupied. The fire under his skin flared up one final time before cooling into a faint smoulder.

Ezra kept his eyes shut, just listening to their shared breaths and feeling Crowley trembling against him. The redhead’s fingers were still inside him, he was pleased to discover.

“Are you okay?” Ezra’s voice was wrecked, but there’s a very distinct  _ purr  _ to his vowels.

Crowley didn’t answer for a time as he caught his breath, then, “Yeah. I am  _ great _ .”

He made to remove his fingers, but Ezra stopped his wrist. “Actually, dearest, do you- er… would you mind keeping them in for just a  _ bit  _ longer?”

Crowley’s mouth ticked up in a smirk.

“Oh?” he whispered. “Do you want a little something  _ extra?” _

With that, he pressed down on Ezra’s prostate who yelped and, impossibly, came a little bit more.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley watched his mate sleep.

Not long after cleaning up from their tryst, Ezra dropped off to sleep. Crowley, however, didn’t. He observed the steady rise and fall of the human - the  _ mortal’s _ \- chest and mentally chewed on everything that had been said earlier.

_ “She consumed it and ascended to immortal Godhood to be properly married to Cupid as equals.” _

_ “...there’s not much in the way of humans becoming as eternal as the Gods.” _

_ “Love me while our gold lasts.” _

“ _ Anathema would be your best bet for that…” _

Slowly, so as not to awaken the sleeping human, Crowley slid out of their “bed”. Ezra whined in his sleep and closed his hands fitfully around the empty air. The naga quickly grabbed a pillow, rubbed it over his face and neck to cover it in his own scent, then slipped it to his mate who curled happily around it with a murmur of his name.

Once Ezra’s sleep returned to what it was, Crowley slithered out of their nest. 

He didn’t know what time it was, nor did he care.

The moon had risen high into the night sky, almost directly overhead. It wasn’t bright enough for any human to navigate the jungle by, but Crowley’s slit pupils dilated enough to allow him to see as if it were clear as day. 

He practically tore through the undergrowth towards the beach and the plants bowed to the side to avoid having branches and leaves destroyed.

*~*~*~*~*

“... _ ma…” _

Anathema was having the  _ nicest  _ dream about sweet, bespectacled yacht captains when she heard a whispery voice on the edge of her consciousness.

“ _...thema…” _

She groaned and rolled over in her bunk away from the noise. Normally the ocean breeze was pleasant, but when it started interrupting her  _ sleep _ …

“ _...Anathema…” _

That wasn’t the breeze!

She opened her eyes in the darkness of the cabin to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes inches from her face.

She started to scream when a hand clapped over her mouth to silence her.

“Anathema, it’s  _ me _ !” Crowley hissed under his breath.

The occultist tried to throw him off but his tail came around her, pinning her arms to her side.

_ Oh fuck! This is it! Ezra’s boyfriend snapped and now he’s gonna eat me! _

Crowley moved backwards, pulling her with him out of the cabin and onto the deck, closing the door behind them as he went.

“Okay,  _ listen _ ! I’m going to let you go.  _ Don’t scream _ ,”

The naga removed his hand and set Anathema back down. She didn’t scream, but it was a close thing.

“What are you  _ doing  _ abducting me from my bed at  _ whatever-the-fuck  _ time this is?!” she snapped, now wide awake.

“You can do magic, right?”

Anathema felt suddenly wrong-footed. “Kind of? I mean, I can see auras and locate lost objects using divining rods and stuff like that. I like to think that maybe my potions work more times than not. But if you’re asking about summoning things and making stuff levitate I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“No, nothing like that,” Crowley admitted.

“Then what  _ do  _ you want?” the occultist asked agitatedly.

Crowley looked down at the polished wood of the deck, then back up at her.

“Do you know how to brew a potion that can make a human immortal?” he asked slowly.

Anathema blinked.

Then caught a laugh in her hands before it became loud enough to wake the men sleeping below deck.

“Are you kidding?” she chortled. “There’s  _ no such thing!  _ There never  _ has  _ been! Even if there  _ was  _ it would surely have been found by now and whoever did would be a  _ very  _ rich witch indeed.”

Even in the darkness of the night, Anathema could see Crowley’s shoulders sag in defeat and she suddenly felt crushed by  _ immense  _ guilt for laughing. She cautiously reached out a hand to pat his arm.

“I’m sorry for acting so callous just now,” she said. “I shouldn’t have laughed at your question.”

“It’s okay, Anathema. It  _ was  _ pretty unexpected,” Crowley replied.

“This is about Ezra, isn’t it?” Anathema pulled her hand away. “You want to somehow make him immortal like you.”

Crowley’s face twisted in confusion.

“How…” he sputtered. “...how did you know that?”

Anathema’s self-preservation instincts were  _ screaming  _ at her to make up some nonsense about auras. 

_ Something’s not right here!  _ They shrieked. 

Instead of listening to those instincts, Anathema remarked off-handedly, “Oh, you know, I just figured since you’ve been around since the 18th century-”

Crowley went very,  _ very  _ still.

His face hardened, and his eyes glowed in the darkness. He moved forward slowly, unblinking, and Anathema was pinned by the frost in his gaze. Crowley leaned down a little until he was in her personal space.

“C-Crowley?”

When the naga spoke, his voice was frighteningly calm and emotionless.

“You’d do well to forget about that,”

Anathema’s mouth ran dry and her heart skipped at least  _ three  _ beats.

“Are you  _ threatening me _ , Crowley?” she asked, voice trembling.

Crowley stared into her eyes as if he were searching for something. Then he replied, “No. I’m not. I would  _ never  _ hurt my mate’s family. I’m trying to  _ warn you _ .”

“Isn’t that basically the same thing?!”

He was still  _ staring  _ at her. His body remained stiff and unmoving. 

Anathema was reminded of a mountainside the minute before an avalanche; of the silence before the deafening roar and crushing ice.

“I was like you, once,” Crowley said, unprompted. “I wanted to  _ know _ . I questioned the wrong people and  _ demanded  _ answers. I was punished for it.” His tail thumped on the deck like a signature on an execution order, heavy and final. “Ezra taught me a  _ very  _ interesting phrase some time ago: Curiosity killed the cat.”

Anathema suddenly found her courage.

“He must not have taught you  _ all of it _ , because the rest of the phrase is ‘But satisfaction brought it back’!”

Crowley shook his head and chuckled. It was not a friendly sound.

“He  _ did  _ tell me all of it, but that doesn’t matter...” He moved back until Anathema no longer felt like cornered prey. “...because sometimes the ‘cat’ doesn’t ‘come back’ the same as it was before it left.”

He slithered to the handrail and hoisted himself up on the edge, preparing to drop back to the sand. He cast one last look over his shoulder before he did so, however, and Anathema could see the hateful tears clinging to his lashes.

“Remember, human, there are no monsters in this world but the ones we make of  _ ourselves _ ,”

With that he leapt over the side onto the beach and was gone faster than the woman could gather her thoughts.

Anathema stood there on the bow of the ship, arms wrapped around herself and fingernails digging into the meat of them. 

It would be a while before she felt calm enough to go back to sleep...


	17. The Visit: Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Anathema bond over plant gathering and Ezra talks a stroll with Medina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con near the end of the chapter. Be careful while reading if such things are triggering. It will get better.

Gabriel, perpetual early-bird that he was, was fairly surprised when he came up on deck to find Anathema awake before him. She was still wearing her sleep pants and nightshirt, leaning over the railing as her charcoal hair whipped around her face in the early-morning breeze. Her eyes were far away, face pensive.

“Hey, are you alright?” Gabriel asked. “Normally you’re the last one up. Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“It certainly  _ felt  _ that way,” Anathema replied.

“If it wasn’t a nightmare, then what happened?” Gabriel came up to stand beside her.

“It was Crowley,” the occultist sighed. “He snuck aboard and dragged me out here to ask me about immortality potions.”

“He did? How did the rest of us not hear him?”

“He is  _ very  _ sneaky,” Anathema answered, then frowned.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Why does  _ he  _ need an immortality potion? He’s like, 200 years old, right?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t for him. It was for Ez,” Anathema said. “I told Crowley there was no such thing and he was, understandably, upset. However, I kind of did something insensitive and mentioned his age.”

“That’s a faux pas if ever I’ve heard one,” Gabriel replied dryly, and would have sipped out of a coffee mug if he had one.

“That’s not the  _ point _ though!” Anathema was adamant. “The point is, after I mentioned his age, Crowley got a little… well…  _ scary _ !”

Gabriel knit his brows together. “Did he threaten you?”

“That’s what I thought, at first,” the occultist chuckled bitterly. “He basically told me that if I knew what was good for me, I would forget about how old he is. He then told me something about being too curious for my own good, like him, and that he ended up paying the price for it.”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped at Anathema’s words. “That  _ was  _ a threat, Witch!”

“No! It  _ wasn’t _ ! Before he left, he looked at me and… Gabe, his  _ eyes!  _ They were filled with  _ so much pain  _ and fear; not for himself, but for  _ me _ ! I think he was basically saying ‘if she won’t fear the answers to her questions, then she’ll fear  _ me _ !’”

“Do you know what questions he was so scared of?” the younger Fell brother asked.

Anathema shook her head.

“ _ No  _ idea,” she sighed. Her back was slumped defeatedly. “He  _ obviously  _ wouldn’t tell me. Though he  _ did  _ mention something along the lines of ‘there are no monsters but the ones we make of ourselves’.”

Gabriel worked his jaw as if he were physically chewing on Crowley’s cryptic statement. “Mentioning his old age is obviously a sore spot, and for good reason. He doesn’t want to think about Ezra dying and leaving him alone here on this island forever. As for the ‘monster’ comment, I’m not quite sure what to think of that. Maybe the answers he found were ones he wishes he never had?”

Sadness welled up in Anathema. She could already see it now: Crowley wandering the shores of the island for century upon century after Ezra’s death, alone and crying out to the sea for his beloved to be returned to him...

Her heart ached in sympathy.

Gabriel, however, seemed to mistake her silence for something else as he had quickly grabbed her shoulders. “Listen, Witch, whatever you’re thinking I want you to stop it  _ right now!  _ I know you’re itching to uncover the ‘grand secrets’ this place holds or whatever, but I’m  _ begging  _ you:  _ listen to Crowley!” _

An awkward moment ticked by as Anathema tried to figure out what the  _ Hell  _ her friend was ranting about.

Then she said softly, “That’s not what I was thinking  _ at all. _ ”

There was another moment in which Gabriel started feeling  _ very  _ embarrassed at his outburst. He let Anathema go and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” he said morosely. “I just… I thought you weren’t going to listen to Crowley’s warning because of how stubborn you can be.”

Anathema crossed her arms, an expression of indignation on her face. “I don’t know what kind of idiot you take me for, Gabe, but I understand better than  _ anyone  _ here - with the exception of Crowley - that some things were never meant to be discovered. I told you and Medina that if Crowley didn’t want to talk about his past as naga nobility to us, then he didn’t have to; I stand by that policy, Gabe. I’m not a hypocrite! I just… I was thinking about how sad our newest friend would be when Ez inevitably dies of old age.”

“I’m sorry, Witch,” Gabriel sighed. “I didn’t mean to assume. I, however, am  _ also  _ not an idiot and I can tell that you’re cooking up  _ something  _ in that mind of yours.”

“Maybe…” Anathema smiled and gently elbowed the much taller man. “I told him that there were no potions of immortality or anything like that, but that’s largely because nobody’s ever found a successful recipe with what little knowledge we have. Maybe Crowley’s kind has that last piece of information that we humans lack? Maybe even  _ he’s  _ the key to a successful recipe. I was planning on visiting him today to apologize for upsetting him and seeing if he wants me to teach him some basic potion-making so he can try and find it himself.”

“Do you think it’s possible for such a thing to exist?”

The silence between them was leaden.

Anathema admitted, “Not really. At least, there  _ hasn’t  _ before, but who’s to say it never will? Crowley seems like the type to not give up what he wants easily, and I bet there’s all  _ kinds  _ of plants and reagents on this island that can’t be found anywhere else!”

Gabriel gave her hand a friendly pat. “You seem oddly excited to take on a new ‘student of the craft’.”

“Is it that obvious? I’m not just doing it for him and Ez. I want to try making potions with these new ingredients  _ too _ ! I bet I’ll  _ finally  _ be able to perfect that recipe for instant stain remover that’s been giving me trouble,” The corner of the occultist’s mouth rose in a half-giddy smirk.

“Hey, if anyone here can make the impossible happen…” Gabriel’s hand came down on Anathema’s shoulder in a show of camaraderie. “...it’s you and Crowley.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Darling, please let go of me. It’s morning and I’d like to get up,”

“Nope. Not doing it. This is where you live forever now,”

Crowley was on his back in the nest with Ezra laid out fully on top of him and every inch of his arms and coils wound around the human’s body.

The blonde struggled futilely and his mate just laughed the entire time.

“You are a  _ terrible fiend _ , do you know that?” Ezra sighed with resignation and allowed himself to go limp. “I’ll never get anything done today at this rate.”

Crowley raised his head a little to look at the being in his arms and asked, “What things? There’s nothing to do here but relax and enjoy each other’s company.”

“There’s my family, for instance. If I don’t go see them, they might come looking for me and find me sprawled indecorously naked atop my lover and come to the wrong conclusions about what we’ve been doing this morning,” Ezra replied with a teasing grin.

Crowley smiled back, wide and just a smidge predatory. “ _ Or _ they could come to the  _ right  _ conclusion…”

His coils parted and he cheekily grabbed two handfuls of his mate’s arse. Ezra squeaked and slapped his hands away.

“You  _ dreadful lush _ !” he giggle-shrieked. Crowley snickered and Ezra decided he’d have to play dirty. “I  _ suppose  _ we have some time for a bit of fun… although I imagine  _ Medina  _ might be a little delighted to walk in and find me  _ completely bare  _ writhing and gasping and-”

Crowley hissed jealously and yanked a blanket over the both of them, bundling them up until they were little more than a covered lump of cackling human and petulantly possessive snake.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” the redhead said huffily and then, “You’re  _ my  _ completely bare writhing and gasping angel.”

Ezra leaned down to give him a quick peck. 

“ _ Absolutely _ , my dear,” he said blissfully, soft fingers toying with a lock of red hair. “And I’ve  _ never  _ been happier to be so.” He kissed him again.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m yours too,” Crowley’s eyes scanned Ezra’s face, absorbing every precious detail of it.

“ _ EZRA! Are you decent? I’m not about to walk in on you with two dicks inside you, right?” _

Anathema’s voice echoed through the cave. The blonde went to reply that he just needed a moment to get dressed, when Crowley decided to throw back his head and led out a loud  _ obscene  _ moan that put the most seasoned porn actress to shame and rattled a pebble loose from the wall.

“ _ Oh, God, angel!  _ Your mouth is  _ fantastic _ ! Fuck- fuck- you take my cocks so  _ well!” _

He even threw in some very convincing, desperate gasps for good measure. All of the blood in Ezra’s body rushed to his face, leaving him looking like a cherry lollipop on a stick.

“ _ Crowley!” _ he admonished.

“Noooo why did you stop?!  _ Please  _ let me come, angel!” Crowley sobbed.

Before Ezra could explain that it was all a  _ very  _ embarrassing joke, Anathema poked her head around the corner to glare at the two of them. Crowley popped his head from out of the clump of blankets.

“Do you mind? We’re having a  _ moment  _ here?” he said.

Ezra squirmed until he was able to free his face as well. “A-Ana! It’s not what it looks- er-  _ sounds _ like-”

“Nice try, Crowley,” Anathema glowered, annoyed. “Ezra taught me how to spot a fake orgasm  _ years  _ ago.”

Crowley sputtered at his angel, thoroughly scandalized, “You  _ what _ ?! Judas! Traitor!  _ Now  _ how will I mess with her?”

Ezra lightly cuffed the back of Crowley’s head at the same time Anathema rolled her eyes.

“If you’re done being an overdramatic noodle, I need your help with something,”

Ezra managed to wiggle around enough to where he was able to sit up in the nest, blanket gathered to his chest. “Oh dear, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Anathema said, looking unbothered by much of anything. “I just thought I’d invite Crowley to come along with me today while I hunt for  _ potion  _ ingredients. There’s a lot of plants here I don’t recognize and I don’t want to gather anything toxic by mistake.”

Ezra was confused about his best friend’s emphasis on the word “potion”, but Crowley bolted upright, blinking rapidly.

“Ingredients. Yeah. I can help with that! Be glad to!” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his mate’s forehead. “Gotta go help Anathema, love. I’ll be back soon.”

Ezra glanced at Anathema, then back to Crowley. “Of course, my dear. I’ll probably go down to the beach and visit Gabriel for a bit. I imagine he still has a lot of questions about what happened to me,” he mumbled, and couldn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach at the sight of the redhead’s caginess.

Crowley’s loving smile, however, was more than enough to banish the feeling. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Right, so, I get the distinct impression that this whole ‘plant hunting trip’ isn’t the whole story,” Crowley ventured to say, watching Anathema squat down to dig through the dirt with her bare hands on the search of a root. “What’s the  _ real  _ reason you dragged me all the way out here? Not trying to press me for more answers, are you?”

For a moment, Anathema simply stared at him in that scrutinizing way of hers that made him want to rear back and hiss like the serpent he was. Then, she yanked a white, soil-encrusted tuber out of the ground and stuffed it into the pouch at her side.

“No, Crowley, I’m not,” she said, standing up. “I actually ‘dragged you out here’ so I could apologize for my prodding and offer you something to make amends.”   
“Oh? And how do you intend to do that?”

“Potion-making!”

Crowley folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.

“You told me that there was no potion of immortality last night,” he pointed out. “Unless there  _ actually  _ is and you just ‘conveniently’ forgot about it until this morning.”

“Don’t be such a smartass,” the occultist said. “There  _ isn’t _ one, but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t work together to try and  _ discover  _ one.”

Crowley’s eyes fell.

“Don’t do this to me, human. Don’t give me  _ hope _ ,”

Anathema walked up to him so she could better look him in the eyes.

“I’m  _ not  _ ‘giving you hope’,” she said determinedly. “I’m giving you a  _ chance.” _

Crowley looked down, baffled.

“‘S all the same thing, innit?” he asked. “Hope and chances?”

“No, they aren’t,” Anathema said solemnly. “A  _ chance  _ is a thing. Whether or not you have  _ hope  _ in that chance is entirely up to you.”

Crowley’s tongue darted out to lick his lips that had suddenly gone very dry. “Okay… well… I can’t have ‘hope’, but I’ll take that ‘chance’. But why do you need me, anyway?”

“Yesterday at the rockpool you showed me some plants that I had never  _ seen  _ before,” Anathema said smugly. “Therefore, there’s probably  _ other  _ plants with  _ other  _ properties that no other human has tried yet. There’s been a few botched attempts at making a potion of immortality in the past, so we can take some of these  _ new  _ plants, apply them to the already-known failed formulas, and see if anything sticks! Even if nothing works, we could still potentially find out some new medicinal properties of these unknown plants that could be helpful if either one of you gets hurt again.”

Crowley smiled and felt a bit of excitement, despite himself. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he gestured with an extended arm. “Lead the way.”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra’s legs still trembled a little as he walked, but the pain in his lower back was almost completely gone and he could walk the distance to the beach unaided now.

_ Might need a little help getting back, though… _

As he hobbled his way through the jungle, he heard a slow, rhythmic sound from somewhere ahead.

_ Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! _

Ezra moved toward the noise and finally found the source of it.

Medina had a hatchet in one hand and was driving it repeatedly into a dead, fallen log on the ground in front of him. He angled his head away with every chop to avoid the flying splinters.

“Shoulda brought goggles for this…” he muttered, not noticing Ezra.

The naval Captain straightened out his back with a pop and wicked the back of his hand across his forehead before shucking off his blue t-shirt (which had a duck on it for some reason?). He waved it around a few times to get the worst of the sweat out, then poured some water on it from a bottle at his feet, wrung it out, and tied it around his forehead.

“What on Earth are you doing, Captain?” asked Ezra, coming into view.

Medina startled and dropped his hatchet which buried itself blade-first in the dirt with its handle sticking up.

“Fuck, you scared me!”

“Terribly sorry about that. I was on my way to the beach to visit Gabriel when I saw you doing… whatever it is you’re doing.”

Medina bent over and yanked his hatchet free.

“I’m chopping firewood,” he explained. “None of us really  _ need  _ it, what with the ship having electricity and all, but I want to try catching some fresh fish and cooking it up on an open fire like all the movies.”

Ezra giggled, remembering his own  _ disastrous  _ attempts at doing so on his first day at the island. 

“Just don’t try using only two sticks,” he said. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“Don’t worry. I have a firestarter back on the ship. I’m pretty much done chopping so I’ll be heading back there with all this tinder,” replied Medina, smiling proudly like a child boasting about his bottle cap collection.

Ezra bent down to help Medina carry the harvested wood, when the still-healing muscle in his lower back gave a spasm. His leg crumpled beneath him and he pitched forward with a yelp. Medina caught him before he could hit the ground, however. “Geez, Fell! Are you okay?”

Ezra tried to stand, but only succeeded in slumping further into Medina’s arms until he was squashed against a firm chest.

“I- I’m fine,” he said embarrassedly. “I just need to sit down for a moment.”

Medina half-carried, half-walked Ezra over to a section of log that he hadn’t cut up yet and helped him down. “Here. Take a seat. Do you want some of my water?”

The blonde looked away, slightly humiliated by his own physical weakness. “No. It’s quite alright, captain. I just need a moment then I’ll be right as rain in a jiffy.”

“You don’t have to call me that when talking to me, you know,” Medina said softly. He sat down beside Ezra. “You can just call me ‘Medina’. You don’t  _ have  _ to call me ‘captain’. I mean, you don’t do that for Newt.”

“Quite right, capt- er- Medina. I suppose I’m stuck in my overly formal ways somewhat. Newt’s a good man, but ‘Yacht Captain’ is  _ not  _ the career I would have guessed him to be in possession of upon first meeting.  _ You, _ however…” 

Ezra gestured up and down at the man seated beside him. Medina wasn’t physically stronger than Crowley, but he  _ did  _ have more defined muscles and broader shoulders with thicker arms. In a word, he looked more like the “dashing sea captain” archetype than Newt ever had. Newt was somewhat scrawny and pale, with nervously fluttering hands and eyes that never seemed to stay still. Medina moved with  _ confidence _ .

“I just look more the part, huh?” the seaman smiled ruefully. “Well, when I’m ashore I’m just Carlos Medina: Part-Time Radio Enthusiast and Lumberjack.”

Ezra laughed. “Well, you make a very dashing lumberjack, my dear,” he said nonchalantly. “Even  _ if  _ you wear a shirt on your head like a lunatic.”

Medina pretended to look offended.

“Hey! Soaking a shirt and wrapping it around your forehead is a  _ genuine  _ survival method! It helps keep your brain cool in hot environments like deserts and jungles!” he protested.

Ezra reached up to pinch the hem of the wet cloth. “Knowledge like  _ that  _ would have been  _ very  _ helpful to me on the first day I came here. If it weren’t for Crowley, I wonder how long I would have survived on my own,” he said simply, and his voice took on a somewhat sad tone.

“I gotta ask, Fell, how did you and him end up… you know… together? You’re pretty brave for not running screaming when he first approached you,”

Ezra lifted his eyes to the canopy, lost in the memory. “I wanted to, believe me. In fact, I almost fainted. I was tired and injured and  _ scared _ but he was just so… so  _ kind  _ to me and I quickly found out that he wasn’t as scary as I initially thought,” he said.

Medina laughed softly. “ _ Wow _ . That sounds like one helluva good story idea. You should write it!”

“Oh no, my writing days are behind me,” Ezra replied sadly, casting his eyes down. “There’s not exactly a booming publishing industry on this island, but even writing for the enjoyment of it is quite impossible. I have no paper or pens.”

Watching the author’s face fall in despondency for his dream deferred, Medina ached with sympathy.

“I’d get some for you...” He paused. “...if I had any, of course.”

“Thank you, dear boy. It’s a shame, really. I had my next book idea all figured out in my head before the whole ‘overboard incident’,” Ezra said unhappily, glancing over to find Medina watching him with quiet understanding.

“Tell me about it?” murmured the captain in a tentative voice, like he thought his request would be summarily denied.

Ezra, however, lit up as if he were just offered a rich, chocolate cake.

“Really?” he asked, failing to contain his eagerness. “You  _ actually  _ want to hear about my writi-”

“Absolutely!” Medina interrupted, excited at the thought of being the first person to hear about the would-be newest Ezra Fell novel. “I’d never read your work before I was assigned to your S&R, admittedly, but I quickly fell in love! With your writing, I mean.”

“That’s  _ wonderful!” _ said Ezra. “Which of my books was your favorite?”

“Oh, er, I’ve actually only read ‘ _ Glass Bones and Paper Skin _ ’ so far,”

“That one was  _ not  _ my best work,” Ezra said around the self-depreciating twist of his mouth. “‘ _ The Mermaid’s Tale’ _ might have been my best-seller, but ‘ _ Constellations’  _ is my  _ personal  _ favorite. Oh… that must sound  _ awfully  _ pretentious to have a favorite of one’s own work-”

Medina’s hand quickly reached out to touch Ezra’s wrist. “It’s not pretentious  _ at all _ !” he objected. “It’s no different than having a favorite piece of a collection.”

“Then in that case I  _ heartily  _ recommend ‘ _ Constellations _ ’,” the blonde declared. “You should read it once you return home.”

Medina withdrew his hand as Ezra rose to his feet.

“Hey, where are you going?” the brunette asked and stood as well. “I thought you were gonna tell me about your unfinished book? Don’t leave me hanging!”

Ezra smiled. “I wasn’t, dear boy. I want to continue this conversation, but I also need to walk about a bit to rebuild the strength in my leg muscles from my injury. I’ve rested up enough, so would you care to join me? I could use a bit of support...”

Saying so, he held out his arm.

Medina looped his own through Ezra’s. “Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

*~*~*~*~*

Medina, as it turned out, was  _ genuinely  _ interested in what Ezra had to say, much to the blonde’s surprise. He laughed at the unfinished book’s jokes, asked about plot points, and gasped at all the appropriate twists and turns the story took. He even made small suggestions that Ezra felt improved the overall quality of the story.

_ He’s got quite the writer’s soul. I’d wager he could write his own book, even. _

Just as Ezra opened his mouth to suggest that Medina take up creative fiction, he heard two familiar voices floating through the trees.

“I call this flower ‘Lady’s Lashes’ ‘cause it looks like long eyelashes,”

“ _ Fascinating!  _ And what does it do, Crowley?”

“Not quite sure, really. Something medicinal maybe? Looks like it would…”

“Then we’re taking it!”

Medina hummed in surprise. “Oh! It’s Anathema and Crowley!” he remarked. “What do you think they’re up to?”

“Terrible mischief, no doubt,” Ezra sighed, resigned, and Medina was inclined to agree.

Neither the occultist nor the naga noticed the other two. Ezra watched as Crowley bent over to pluck what appeared to be a sprig of black oregano and pass it to Anathema, who pocketed it eagerly.

She then withdrew a flower with large, triangular, dark-purple petals and held it out to him.

“What about this one?” she asked. “I don’t quite know  _ what  _ it is.”

The redhead bent down to sniff the flower, closing his eyes as he did so, and Ezra felt something twinge in his chest at how  _ at-ease _ his mate looked around Anathema. Crowley then opened his eyes and shook his head.

“Bat Blossom,” he groaned. “Completely worthless, that one. Hardly any scent and no useful attributes whatsoever.”

Anathema shrugged and reached up, tucking the flower behind Crowley’s ear.

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s pretty at least. Looks good with your hair.”

Her finger accidentally brushed his cheek as her hand pulled away and the knot in Ezra’s chest sank all the way down to his stomach. Crowley, meanwhile, just gingerly touched at the bloom in his hair.

“Ugh,” he complained, throwing his head back. “Does that mean  _ I  _ have to get the plants now?”

It wasn’t that Ezra felt  _ jealous _ , per say. He completely trusted Crowley and Anathema. The feeling he had was more akin to bitter wistfulness. Quite frankly, the two of them looked  _ right  _ together.

Crowley and Anathema were both stubborn, snarky, and - apparently - shared the same interest in botany. Conversely, Ezra couldn’t be any more different than his mate if he  _ tried _ . Ezra was clumsy, fretful, and  _ boring _ ; the antithesis to everything Crowley and Anathema were. He found himself wondering just what his mate could  _ possibly  _ see in him, and his self-worth tanked.

Ezra held no illusions about Crowley’s love, he  _ knew  _ that the naga only wanted  _ him _ . His thoughts, however, turned to the future.

_ He enjoys being with me  _ now,  _ but what about a year from now? Five? Ten? What if he wakes up one morning and realizes I’m more trouble than I’m worth? _

He felt Medina squeeze his arm. “You alright, Fell? You’re shaking.”

_ Am I? _

Ezra looked down at his arm and saw that it was, indeed, trembling. He took a steadying breath and put on a brave face.

“I’m alright, dear boy. We can keep walking.”

Medina looked like he didn’t believe him, but also didn’t want to upset the smaller man by pressing for the truth. “Alright then, if you’re sure,” he shifted the topic of conversation. “Tell me more about the Duke of Yore and why he wants to claim the Jewel of the Rose for himself. If he’s rich, why does he want it so bad?”

Ezra’s insecurity was temporarily pushed to the back of his mind to be addressed with Crowley later in the privacy of their nest. Instead, he opted to expound upon the villainous Duke and his wicked motivations to Medina as the two of them strolled further into the jungle.

Ezra was able to walk quite a bit longer than he normally would, thanks to Medina's sturdy support, but eventually his legs and back began hurting and he had to sit down again. There were no logs this time, so Medina removed the now-dry shirt from where it was still wrapped around his head and spread it out on the ground for Ezra to sit on, who did so gratefully.

“I don’t know…” Medina began, clearly intending to rile the author up. “...Oscar Wilde was pretty good, but Twain knew how to write  _ flawless  _ satire.”

“‘ _ Pretty good’ _ ?!” gasped Ezra. “Bite your tongue, good sir! The late, great Wilde was a  _ jewel  _ in the crown of literature and I  _ shan’t  _ have you disparaging him, regardless of Twain’s brilliance!”

Medina laughed and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender from where he was leaning against a tree trunk. “Alright, alright! Don’t insult Oscar, lest I risk a wrathful smiting from the patron saint of Irish writers!”

Ezra nodded smartly.

“Indeed! In fact-”

His face fell suddenly and he looked around fitfully.

“Everything alright, Fell?”

“Yes, yes, quite alright. It’s just…” Ezra turned worried eyes to his friend. “...where are we?”

“What do you mean? You  _ live  _ here, don’t you?”

The author pouted. “ _ Yes _ , but I’ve never ventured this far into the jungle before. I only ever really stuck to the nest, the rockpool, and the beach.”

Medina pushed himself away from the tree and tried to find a recognizable landmark. “I mean… can’t we just retrace our steps back the way we came? Can’t be  _ that  _ hard, can it?”

“Do you think that will work? I don’t recognize anything,” Ezra peered through the trees as if that would  _ somehow  _ make familiarity appear. “I suppose we  _ could  _ just pick a direction and walk. We’re  _ bound  _ to find something then!”

Medina shook his head. “That’s a bad idea. S&R protocol recommends remaining put if you ever find yourself lost. Staying in one place makes it easier for rescue to find you.”

Ezra exclaimed, “ _ What _ ‘rescue’?! It’s just  _ us  _ out here!”

The naval captain crouched down beside him. “It’s okay, Fell. Crowley’s bound to notice you gone sooner or later and come looking. He  _ does  _ know this place better than us, so really it’s only a matter of time. We just need to be patient and keep calm.”

“I… you’re quite right, of course,” Ezra admitted. “I didn’t mean to panic for a moment there. It’s just that there are some places on this island that Crowley tells me are  _ dangerous _ , even for him. I worry that we might have accidentally wandered into such an area.”

“I don’t see any danger, do you?” the naval captain swung his arm out to encompass the area. “No predators, no pitfalls, no  _ nothing _ . I think we just accidentally wandered a bit too far off the beaten path and now we have to sit here until Anathema or Gabriel or  _ whoever _ swings by to make fun of us for getting lost.”

“Oh dear. Now that you mention it, it  _ is  _ quite embarrassing,” Ezra fiddled with the sleeves of his black henley, looking stricken at the thought of Anathema’s merciless teasing. “Are you  _ sure  _ we can’t try and find our way back before we get in trouble?”

Medina just laughed and shook his head. 

*~*~*~*~*

The sun was sinking below the western horizon, right on the verge of twilight, by the time Crowley and Anathema finished their plant gathering. They stood outside the cave and shook hands, ready to part ways until tomorrow. 

“I think we’ve got enough reagents to start working,” Anathema peeked into her carrying pouch.

Crowley grinned in triumph.

“I’ve never tried brewing potions before,” he admitted. “I’m  _ really  _ looking forward to seeing if this will work.”

“I thought you didn’t want to have ‘hope’?” Anathema snarked, adjusting the strap of her back. “Is the stoic Crowley finally about to crack?”

“I’m not ‘hoping’, it’s just… professional curiosity,” Crowley’s lips were drawn together in a pout.

“Yeah, whatever,” Anathema smiled and rolled her eyes so hard they practically fell out of their sockets. “You think Ez is inside? I want to say ‘hi’ before I turn in for the night.”

“Should be. He said he was going to visit Gabriel earlier, but I’m sure he’s back by now.”

Crowley led the occultist into the cave and to their nest, expecting to find Ezra curled up with a book. Instead, there was no sign of him, and the bedding was in the exact same state it had been that morning, so he hadn’t been back since Crowley left.

“I thought you said he was in here,” Anathema said.

“I thought so too…” Crowley cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the rest of the cave, “ANGEL _!” _

No answer but the echoing of his own voice.

Anathema could see the tense, worried lines in the redhead’s shoulders and she tried to put on an unaffected air to keep him calm. “Eh, he’s probably still with Gabriel.”

“Maybe… I’ll go check. Stay here in case he comes back and wonders where I went. If I’m not back in a few hours, assume I’ve gone out to look for him,”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Anathema saluted.

Crowley didn’t bother saluting back, and tore out of the cave.

*~*~*~*~*

As it turned out, Gabriel hadn’t seen Ezra  _ all day _ , and now Crowley was properly worried. Those fears were somewhat alleviated when Newt remarked off-handedly that Medina hadn’t been seen either after going out to gather firewood.

_ At least he’s not out there all alone... _

As grumpy as Crowley was at the thought of Medina potentially flirting with his angel, he trusted the both of them. 

His main concern was due to the fact that night had fallen, and some of the more enterprising nocturnal predators were out and about.

_ They’ll be fine. Medina’s tough. I know  _ that  _ firsthand. _

Still, it wouldn’t hurt if he slithered a bit faster than normal while searching. Crowley stuck his tongue out to try and catch the scent of his mate on the wind and track him. It was faint, but there.

He followed it, pausing every so often to re-scent the air and correct his course as needed.

Then, he heard something that made his blood freeze in his veins.

From a few yards away, he heard the sounds of a struggle accompanied by Ezra’s gasping cries of, “No! Please! Crowley!”

The naga no longer needed to navigate by smell, he simply rushed towards his mate’s sobbing.

“Angel! I’m coming!”

He burst through the treeline into a clearing, ready to fight off whatever wild animal  _ dared  _ to attack his mate, but what he saw sent him reeling.

Ezra was pinned to the ground by his wrists by a shirtless Medina who was straddling his legs which thrashed ineffectively against the weight holding them down. The blonde’s eyes were screwed shut and he was letting out terrified pleas as Medina pressed his face close and hissed something at him.

Crowley saw red.


	18. Feral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are made and Crowley becomes something... different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief moment of mutual DubCon just after halfway through between Ezra and Crowley. I shut that shit down fast, however, but be aware that it DOES happen in case it's potentially triggering.

**5 Minutes Earlier**

Medina watched Ezra sleep.

An hour ago the blonde had commented on how tired he felt from their long walk and Medina suggested that he take a nap.

Ezra had been unsure. “ _ Is that wise? What if there’s wild animals? _ ”

“ _ It’s okay _ ,” Medina had assured him. “ _ I’ll protect you _ .”

Ezra had conceded, with the condition that he be awakened in an hour or two so Medina be allowed to take a break in turn, then curled up on the ground with the captain’s shirt that had previously been used as a cushion, now as a pillow.

Now Medina sat awake, alone, keeping an eye out for either predators or rescue, whichever came first; preferably the latter. With the sun now completely gone, but the light still not quite faded, he was able to see enough, but the shadows were quickly lengthening.

He shivered as an ocean breeze blew by. Medina was tempted to briefly awaken Ezra to take his shirt back, but, well…

The writer was just so  _ cute  _ when he slept!

The way his soft-looking lips hung open just a little as he snuffled drowsily and the way his silvery curls were tousled by the wind all conspired to make moving him a distinct impossibility for Medina, who hunkered down for a chilly wait.

_ Eh, could be worse. That mission up to Greenland in 2015 was pretty cold... _

Medina was pulled from his memory by the sound of something  _ large  _ rustling through the trees in the distance. It didn’t seem to have a discernable pattern of movement, and the dark shape was unrecognizable against the backdrop of night.

_ Alright, fuck waiting for rescue. We need to get out of the way of whatever the fuck  _ that  _ is. _

Slowly, careful not to attract the creature’s attention, Medina crawled on his hands and knees over to Ezra. “Psst, Fell, wake up. We need to leave.”

Instead of waking up, however, Ezra started whimpering.

“N-no… please…” he whined. “Don’t… don’ go…”

The creature moved again and Medina shook Ezra a little harder this time.

“ _ Fell!  _ This  _ really  _ isn’t the time for a nightmare!” he whispered harshly. “Wake up or you’re gonna get us both killed!”

Ezra started thrashing and cried out, “No! Please! Crowley!”

A sob wrenched its way out of his throat and the naval captain quickly threw himself on top of Ezra to try and silence the noise before they were attacked. He sat back on the blonde’s squirming legs in an attempt to hold him steady.

“Fell, please! Wake-”

Ezra’s arm swung out and backhanded Medina across the face. The man felt a slight bruise well up and he grabbed the blonde’s wrists and pinned them to the ground. Ezra began muttering pleas. Medina pressed his face close to hiss in his ear, “ _ Be quiet!” _

Then something  _ heavy  _ slammed into him at the speed of sound.

*~*~*~*~*

_ “Thank you for finding me a copy of ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ _ ,  _ my darling!” Ezra smiled, leaning against Crowley. _

_ The redhead made a noncommittal noise and then scooted away so he was no longer being touched. Ezra watched this, confused. “Dearest?” _

_ Crowley sighed wearily. _

_ “Don’t you ever get  _ bored,  _ Ezra?” he groaned. The human flinched at the use of his name, instead of his beloved title of ‘angel’. He tried to scoot closer, but Crowley squirmed out of his reach. “I mean, all you  _ do  _ all day is read your stupid books and try to force me to spend time with you!” _

_ “What? But… but I thought you  _ liked  _ spending time with me! And you wanted me to read to you just last night, remember?” Ezra gasped. _

_ “Yeah, but that was  _ before  _ I realized how  _ dull  _ everything is with you around,” They were now face to face, Crowley’s eyes devoid of any emotion other than pure disinterest. “I used to have  _ fun  _ exploring the island with my sisters… and then  _ you  _ came along and now I spend all my time doing what  _ you  _ want. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it.” _

_ Ezra squirmed. “You… you don’t believe that,” he said, though his tone made it clear that he himself did. “What about all the times we made love? You made me your  _ mate _! And I made you  _ mine!  _ Surely  _ that  _ has to count for something!” _

_ Crowley shrugged his shoulders with a hint of a fangy grin. “Yeah, the sex was great. Such a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Slutting it up with a monster… you’ll get it wherever you can, huh?” _

_ Ezra jolted. _

_ “You… you aren’t a monster, remember?” he whimpered. “And- and I’m not… It was love, Crowley! What we made was  _ love _!” _

_ He lifted his hand to touch the Mating Mark on his neck, but even without seeing it, he could tell it was gone. _

_ “‘Love’?” Crowley snickered. “I’m not human, so I can’t love, remember?” _

_ Ezra rubbed desperately at the spot where his Mark used to be, as if the friction would somehow bring it back. “I was  _ wrong _ , Crowley! Remember? I gave up everything so I could prove that I was sorry for lying and making assumptions! We moved past it and swore to make  _ new, better  _ memories!” _

_ Crowley rolled his eyes. _

_ “For  _ Someone’s  _ sake try to have a  _ little  _ decorum,” he grumbled as Ezra started sniffling. “This whole ‘weak, pathetic human’ thing is getting reeaallly annoying.” _

_ “I… I’m  _ not pathetic,  _ Crowley,” the blonde cried. “If this is a joke, you’ve taken it  _ way too far _ , but I will forgive you if you just come here and let me hold you.” He reached out his arms towards the other. _

_ Crowley sputtered for a moment, then sneered. _

_ “Forgive  _ me _?! I should be forgiving  _ you  _ for wasting all my time with your nonsense!” he said angrily. _

_ “W-wait, where are you going?” asked Ezra when Crowley stood up.  _

_ The blonde reached out for his mate, but Crowley cruelly moved further away. _

_ “I should get out of here. I’ve got better things to do than waste my time listening to a sniveling fool,” he huffed. _

_ “N-no, please! Don’t… don’t go!” Ezra sobbed, trying in vain one more time to take his mate’s hand. _

_ Crowley turned back one more time, and the human let out a soft wail. “I hope you never darken my day with your wretched presence ever again, Ezra.” _

_ He was gone then, quite literally instantly, as if he’d blipped entirely out of existence. _

_ “No! Please! Crowley!” _

*~*~*~*~*

**Present**

Ezra awakened from one nightmare into another.

It was a fair bit darker than it was when he’d first dropped off to sleep, but there was still enough light to see by. 

What he saw almost made him wish there wasn’t.

Medina was immobilized on the ground by Crowley’s palm on his chest.

Only… it didn’t  _ look  _ like Crowley anymore.

The midnight-black scales on the naga’s tail had spread to cover the rest of his skin, as it had all those weeks ago. Now, however, they were interlocked so tightly together that it almost looked like a second layer of metallic skin. His eyes were no longer the beautiful, familiar amber that Ezra had come to love, and had instead darkened to a burnt orange. His long hair flowed around his shoulders, twisting and lashing through the air in distinctly serpentine motions.

“C-Crowley, stop!” gasped Medina. “It’s not what you think!”

**_“I’m going to pull your teeth out one by one, rip off your cock, and FEED it to you!”_ **

Crowley’s lips pulled back in a snarl that didn’t end at his cheeks, but split the skin of his face all the way to his ears and revealed an entire mouthful of jagged, bone-white teeth each at least three inches long. A thick, black tongue lapped at the air, savoring the taste of Medina’s potent fear.

The naval captain couldn’t hold it in anymore and screamed, spurring Ezra into action.

He stumbled to his feet and threw himself at Crowley, arms wrapping around his torso to pull him away. “Stop, Crowley! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

**_“One lesssssss monster in the world…”_ **

Medina turned his face away from the razor-filled maw descending towards his throat. Ezra, in a desperate move, tightened his grip and flung all of his weight backwards. Crowley hissed at the sudden jolt, but his face moved away from Medina’s.

Ezra’s shoulder was tingling with numbness (he had long surpassed feeling pain), but he managed to secure his arms further around Crowley by locking them together by the wrists. “Let Medina  _ go _ !” he panted. “It’s a misunderstanding! He’s a  _ good man _ !”

Medina whimpered and tried to crawl away, but Crowley just pressed down harder, driving the wind from his lungs for a second. “I-it’s true! I was trying to wake him up! He was having a nightmare!”

**_“LIAR!”_ **

Ezra could feel Crowley thrashing to get away and finish what he started. “Darling,  _ please _ listen! I  _ was _ having a nightmare!”

Medina trembled and nodded his head. “I thought you were a wild animal, Crowley, and tried to get him to stop making noise before he attracted the attention of predators!”

**_“But… mate wassss calling for me…”_ **

“I dreamt that you had left me,” Ezra said softly. “I begged for you to come back.”

**“** **_Mate not hurt?”_ ** asked Crowley, his struggles slowing.

Ezra buried his face in the naga’s shoulderblades, fighting back tears. Crowley’s emotional state had devolved so badly that he was regressing to how he had spoken when they first met.

_ I have to calm him down! He might not ever return to me otherwise… _

“No,” Ezra whispered. “I’m not hurt.”

Crowley’s squirming stopped completely and he lifted his hand, allowing Medina to crab-walk out from under him. He rose wide, apologetic eyes to the still quivering human in front of him.

**_“Ssssorry,”_ ** He tapped at his own chest with his palm, then touched the tip of Medina’s shoe who flinched at the contact.  **_“Hurt.”_ **

Ezra released his grip and stepped away. The chaos was over, but Crowley still hadn’t completely returned to his normal self. Physically, he looked the same as he always did: human features and all. His eyes, however, remained the color of flames, almost perfectly matching his hair, and he never blinked once.

He dragged himself forward on his elbows to where Ezra sat back on his haunches.

**_“Sssssafe?”_ ** Crowley held out a trembling hand to squeeze one of Ezra’s.  **_“Mate safe?”_ **

“Yes, my darling,” Ezra choked around tears. “I’m safe. I was  _ never  _ in any danger, from you  _ or  _ Medina.”

Crowley’s tail came to loop around Ezra’s body several times and he draped himself over the human’s front in a full-contact embrace. 

**_“Ssssafe,”_ ** he hissed.  **_“Safe.”_ **

He whimpered and nuzzled against his mate’s face and neck, trying to coat the human in his scent. He began covering every inch of reachable skin with kisses and licks and nibbles, breathing heavily as he did so.

His eyes still didn’t blink.

“What’s… what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s  _ feral  _ or something,” Medina remarked.

The naval captain bent down and picked up his now-trampled shirt to put it back on.

“I don’t have any concrete theories, but I’ve noticed a few times that when Crowley’s emotions run away from him, he… reverts in a way,” Ezra said gently, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair and massaging his scalp.

The naga didn’t cease in his ministrations, but did let out a rumbling purr like the humming of an engine.

“You mean he, like, becomes a  _ real _ snake? But snakes don’t purr  _ or  _ whimper,”

“I’m aware of that, but I didn’t mean he regresses to an animal-like state. I meant that his language capabilities degenerate and he becomes clingier, driven almost entirely by instinct. Right now, he’s even worse off than when I first met him and it worries me,”

“Will he get better if he calms down?” Medina asked quietly, careful not to raise his voice in case it startled Crowley.

A tear leaked of Ezra’s eye and Crowley kissed it away. “I don’t know. What if he  _ never  _ comes back? What if he stays this way forever?” he squeezed the naga a little tighter who chirped happily.

Medina scooted closer to offer Ezra a comforting pat, but Crowley reared up and hissed territorially and the human scrambled away. “Yeah, I should probably avoid touching you for a while until Crowley gets better.”

“I really am dreadfully sorry about what happened just now. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“Nah, just shaken up. I can’t blame Crowley for reacting the way he did, though. He was just trying to protect you. I’m lucky you managed to get through to him before I ended up as a pile of meat,”

Medina tried to seem unbothered, but Ezra could see how he still shook and how he kept his limbs tucked closer to his body. The blonde wanted to go over and comfort his friend, but Crowley’s near-suffocating embrace kept him from doing so.

“I do hope my darling gets better soon,” Ezra looked around at the darkened jungle. “Otherwise, how will we ever get back to safety?”

**_“Safety?”_ **

Crowley had perked up and was looking at his mate intently. Ezra then remembered how, upon their first meeting, the naga had mentioned not being able to  _ speak  _ English very well, but could understand it just fine.

Ezra took his mate’s face in both hands and looked him in the eye. “My love, do you remember telling me about how  _ dangerous _ it can be in the jungle at night? Do you think you could show me the way back to our nest so I’m not in any danger anymore?”

Crowley nodded eagerly.  **_“Yes! Can show! Will be safe!”_ **

The naga adjusted his hold and rose up on his tail. Ezra clung tightly to him. “He’ll take us back to a more familiar area. Follow us.”

Medina did so, keeping carefully behind at all times in case Crowley suddenly decided to attack again.

It wasn’t that further a walk before the naval captain saw the log he had been harvesting earlier. He exhaled in relief; the beach was just a short walk from there!

Before he left, he asked Ezra, “Are you going to be safe with him?”

“I will. Crowley would  _ never  _ harm me,”

Medina nodded and smiled. “Good. You do your best to bring him back to us, you hear?”

“I will,” Ezra rested his head on his mate’s shoulder. “At least, I hope to  _ God  _ I can.”

Medina departed for the beach with a final wave, leaving Ezra to try and coax Crowley back from the recesses of his own mind as they returned to the nest. “Dearest, I hope you can understand me. Everything is alright now. Nobody has harmed me and you’re not in danger either, so there’s no need for all this.”

As the cave came into sight, Anathema stepped out from inside and Crowley clutched Ezra tighter, snarling and hissing at the occultist.

Anathema jumped back, concerned  _ and  _ startled. “Crowley? What the  _ fuck  _ happened to you? What’s up with his eyes, Ez? They’re  _ orange _ !”

Ezra laughed nervously. “Well, erm, suffice it to say, there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. Crowley’s not  _ quite  _ himself at the moment and it would take a bit of time to explain, which I would rather spend trying to fix him. So, Ana dear, if you would please vacate yourself from the premises with all haste, I would be most appreciative. I’ll be sure to come find you if he improves.”

“What?! No! I’m not leaving you two to deal with this by yourselves-”

**_“HIIIISSS!!!”_ **

Anathema instantly scampered off, yelling over her shoulder, “Yup. Okay. I can see that you’ve got this, Ez! Let me know if he gets any better!”

Crowley watched her go with those unblinking, sandstone-colored eyes of his until she was out of sight, nodded smartly, and carried Ezra into the cave. As soon as they were back inside the much-loved nest, Crowley laid his mate down amongst the cushions and began running his hands all over Ezra’s body, trying to pull off his clothes as they went. 

Ezra was confused. “Darling? What are you doing?” He grabbed one of the naga’s arms. “Dearest?”

Crowley glanced down at Ezra, and then the blonde felt powerful, claiming lips on his own. The blonde opened his mouth in surprise and his mate forced his forked (now thankfully back to normal) tongue inside.

Normally Crowley’s kisses would set him aflame, but this time they only brought revulsion at himself.

_ He’s not in his right mind! I  _ can’t  _ allow this to continue or I’d just be taking advantage of him! _

Crowley laid himself out atop Ezra, pushing the smaller human down into the bedding. The blonde’s hands instinctively flew up to tangle in his mate’s hair, but he stopped them. Instead, he pushed against Crowley’s shoulders as best he could to lift him off. Crowley, however, was undaunted and gripped the hem of Ezra’s pants to try and tug them down.

**_“Mate. Need Mate,”_ **

Ezra stopped trying to push Crowley by the shoulders and started tugging at his arms instead. “ _ No,  _ you  _ don’t!  _ You need to stop this, Crowley! You’re not yourself! You  _ can’t  _ want this!”

Crowley leaned down, pressing his face into Ezra’s neck and inhaling deeply.  **_“My mate. Mine.”_ **

Ezra gave an indignant wiggle. “Yes  _ yours _ , and you’re mine. But  _ please  _ come back to me as  _ you _ !”

**_“Mine…”_ **

“Crowley,  _ stop!” _

The naga lurched against him and tears sprang to Ezra’s eyes with fear that his love might be truly beyond his reach…

Then Crowley sat up and blinked.

_ Blinked! _

His eyes had returned to their  _ beautiful  _ flaxen yellow and he looked at Ezra with clarity. “A… angel?”

When he saw what he’d been about to do, however, his pupils narrowed into impossibly thin slits.

He had one hand fisted into the hem Ezra’s trousers, already down low enough to expose his hip bones, and one hand pinning him down by his injured shoulder. The blonde’s chest was heaving, with steel-blue eyes glistening with tears and  _ fear _ .

Crowley jerked away as if he’d touched scalding water.

“What have I done?...” the naga said slowly.

Suddenly, however, Ezra was practically crawling into his lap and peppering his face with relieved kisses.

“Oh thank  _ Heavens _ ! I was  _ so scared  _ for you, darling!  _ So  _ scared!” the blonde laughed.

“Ssssscared for  _ me _ ?!” the naga shuddered. “Angel, be scared for  _ you _ ! For Somebody’s sake I almost…” He gagged at the thought.

Ezra grabbed his face, fingers digging almost painfully into the redhead’s cheeks. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ finish that sentence! There’s been enough false accusations of rape for one night and I  _ won’t _ have you saying the same thing about  _ yourself _ , now!”

“B-but I-”

Ezra silenced him by crashing their mouths together in a desperate tangle of lips and tongue.

“I will  _ always _ want you,” the human gasped when he finished. “I  _ wanted  _ you just now, but you weren’t in the right mindset to consent. If anything  _ I  _ was the one taking advantage!”

“ _ You?!  _ Angel, I  _ held you down!” _

“You were just following your instincts!” Ezra shot back. “If we keep trying to lay the blame at our own feet, we’ll be here all night! So please… let’s just forgive ourselves and move on.”

Crowley snorted. “‘Just forgive ourselves and move on’, huh? Easier said than done…”

Ezra nuzzled the top of his head under Crowley’s chin, forcing his face up. “You don’t  _ need  _ my forgiveness, dearest, but you may have it in exchange for giving me yours.”

“You’re just hellbent on trying to get me to like myself, huh?”

“Guilty as charged, my beloved. You go first,”

Crowley closed his eyes and released a tortured breath. “Alright, then… I forgive you, angel.” He winced.

Ezra, however, was quite pleased.

“And I forgive you,” He draped his arms over the naga’s shoulders and shifted his position so he straddled his lap in such a way that allowed him to stare down with Crowley’s hands rested nervously on his lower back. 

The redhead made a noise in the back of his throat that could only be described as a “turgle”. “T-thanks, angel.”

“It’s quite alright, my dearest one,” The blonde squeezed him tighter for a moment before releasing his firm hold. “I’m just so happy you’re alright. I was  _ terrified  _ that you’d be stuck like…  _ that _ … forever! Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah. I saw what I thought was Medina trying to- well… and I just snapped!” Crowley hid his face in his angel’s shoulder. “I’m gonna owe him  _ soooo  _ many apologies, aren’t I?”

Ezra rubbed his mate’s back. “Not at all, dearest one. He was surprisingly understanding and even instructed me to make sure you got better.”

“ _ Anathema!  _ Oh  _ fuck _ ! I hissed at her like she was a rival!” Crowley yelped in sudden realization.

Ezra cocked his head. “Wait, you remember that too? I thought that maybe you were entirely unaware of what was happening around you and just going about on autopilot.”

Now  _ Crowley  _ looked confused. “I don’t know what ‘autopilot’ is, but if it’s what I think it is, then no, I wasn’t. I wasn’t trapped behind a glass wall inside my own head or anything like that, either, it was just… it was like everything I did felt  _ right _ . Like it was something I was  _ supposed  _ to do.”

Ezra felt so bad for his poor, serpentine lover. 

_ All that sounds  _ dreadful;  _ one moment being sure of your convictions and then the next everything you once thought wrong now feels like the only thing worth doing. _

Ezra tucked a strand of hair behind Crowley’s ear. “I’m glad you’re feeling more like yourself again. I’d love you in  _ any  _ form of course, but-”

“-I was little more than an animal. Yeah, I know.”

The two of them sat entwined in silence for a little while longer until Crowley broke it with, “You looked  _ really  _ scared back there, angel. You said you dreamt about me leaving you? Why?”

“I…” Ezra nibbled his bottom lip. “...I saw you helping Ana with her plant gathering and I thought ‘Oh. They look so good together. I could  _ never  _ be as interesting or as clever as her. What does Crowley even see in me? What if he gets bored with me and decides he doesn’t want to be my mate anymore?’”

Crowley looked into baby blue eyes and saw the self-consciousness swimming within them. “Angel, I will  _ never  _ leave you.  _ Or  _ get bored with you. You’re the most…  _ enchanting  _ person I’ve  _ ever  _ met!”

Ezra sniffled, but smiled.

“That’s not what you said in my dream. In my dream, you called me pathetic and annoying and that I should never bother you again. You even removed my Mark…”

Crowley’s eyes sharpened, and he suddenly darted forward to sink his fangs into Ezra’s neck, directly on top of the Mark. The human cried out and convulsed at the sudden sting of pain and simultaneous bolt of arousal.

Crowley hissed, lapping at the skin beneath his teeth, and then unlatched his mouth.

“Wha- What was that for?” Ezra half gasped, half giggled.

“Sssssorry. I guess I’m still running on the ‘autopilot’ a little. You said that your Mark was gone and I just… I suppose I just wanted to take steps to ensure it stayed there.”

Ezra fell backwards and pulled Crowley down on top of him to wrap the naga in all four limbs for a fierce, full-body hug. “You’re a silly snake, but the gesture  _ does  _ make me feel a little better.”

The redhead made a “fblblblbt” noise with his lips. “‘Silly snake’. I’ll show  _ you ‘ _ silly snake’… get my sisters to steal all your shoes and hide them…”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ , or I’ll- I’ll-” Ezra made a frustrated noise and Crowley could only laugh and kiss him.

*~*~*~*~*

The next morning saw Crowley standing awkwardly on the shore with something clasped behind his hands as Medina leaned over the railing of the still-beached ship to stare down at him.

Ezra’s eyes kept darting between the two of them. “Er… can I help you?” Medina yelled down.

“You don’t have to apologize, my dear,” Ezra whispered to his mate. “As I said yesterday, Medina holds no ill will towards-”

“No, no, I gotta do this. Make amends and all that,”

Anathema staggered blearily onto the deck, rubbing at her sleep-heavy eyes. “Wha’s goin’ on out here? Is Crowley feeling better?”

Gabriel clomped up behind her immediately after, already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Newt still remained asleep down below deck, dead to the world.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, buddy,” Medina smiled, truly happy that Crowley’s mind had been restored.

“Yeah, well… I wanted to apologize and- here!”

Crowley flung something forward that Medina was able to pluck out of the air. It was a square-shaped bundle carefully wrapped in banana leaves. The naval captain peeled away the sheath and a bundle of yellow flowers fell out, revealing a book underneath. Medina turned the cover over and gasped loud enough to cause Anathema and Gabriel to think he’d suddenly been punched in the stomach.

“It’s  _ ‘Constellations’!” _ explained Ezra. “Turns out some of the old salvage crates where I get my books from have a few copies of my, well, books!”

“The flowers were my idea!” Crowley elaborated.

Ezra laughed. “ _ Everything  _ was your idea, love. I just suggested what the apology gift should be.”

Medina made a tiny noise and clutched the book to his chest with watery eyes.

“Why, Ezra, I didn’t know you were into the poly scene,” Gabriel teased, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Gee, Ez, how come God lets you have  _ two  _ boyfriends?”

Anathema practically flung herself over the edge of the railing to hold up two fingers as she said so with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up, human!” Crowley snapped as Ezra blushed scarlet.

Medina ran his fingertips reverently over the cover of the book. The pages were a little warped and yellowed, but the text was perfectly readable.

“I… I never  _ needed  _ an apology but… I accept it anyways.  _ Thank you _ , Crowley,”

“Anytime, boat human, anytime,”


	19. The Visit: Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt takes hunting lessons from Crowley in an attempt to win over Anathema.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just straight fluff and smut; A fun little treat for the angst of the last two (Smut starts at the last *~*~*~*~*~* and continues to the end)

Crowley crouched low to the sand, with Newt hunkered down beside him. They peered from behind a rocky outcropping on the beach at where a flock of seagulls were pecking at the bits of raw fish the redhead had scattered around.

Newt watched one of them hop forward, snatch up a piece of meat, then hop out of range of an angry rival. “Are you sure this will work?”

“Absolutely,” replied Crowley with conviction. “You want to win Anathema as a mate? Showing her that you can provide for her with hunting is the  _ best  _ way to do it!”

“But… she can provide for herself without me. What does catching  _ prey _ have anything to do with asking her to be my girlfriend?” Newt looked, and felt, confused.

Crowley flailed his arms about, trying to find the right explanation that  _ didn’t _ make himself sound like a complete loon.

“It’s… it’s about  _ effort _ , you know? Showing her that, yes, she  _ can  _ provide for herself, but why do it alone when there’s someone who wants to  _ share  _ her life and workload? Plus, it makes you look strong and brave for being willing to fight a dangerous foe on her behalf,” he explained. Newt, however, didn’t quite seem convinced.

“I’m not sure that  _ seagulls  _ qualify as a ‘dangerous foe’,” The shorter man’s tone was disbelieving.

“That’s because you don’t know what they’re  _ like _ , twitchy human,” Crowley’s eyes glazed over and he found himself lost in memories of vicious beaks and furious wings.

So much squawking…   
  


“...you don’t know what they’re like…”

Unending squawking…

Newt halted Crowley’s flashbacks with a, “Alright, then. How do I catch one?”

“Well, we’ve already laid out the bait. All we have to do now... is  _ catch it _ ,” Crowley’s tongue licked at his fangs.

“Yes. I know that. But how do we-”

The naga sprang forward, powered by his immense tail, directly into the middle of the gathering of seagulls who screeched in fright. Most of them took to flight, but a decent number were trapped in the middle of thrashing coils and kicked up sand. 

Newt watched on, transfixed.

There came the sounds of snarls and cracking, then the maelstrom ended and Crowley held aloft three dead seagulls by their feet. His body was caked in sand and his hair stood up wildly, feathers poking out.

He flashed a fangy grin. “See? It’s easy!”

Newt crept over and carefully prodded at the limp birds.

“How do you… cook them?” he asked.

“I don’t,” Crowley shrugged. “Prefer ‘em raw.”

Newt looked a little nauseated, remembering how the naga had swallowed the seagull whole from a few days ago. He decided wisely to move on from such topics of conversation. “Al… alright then. Shall we spread more fish?”

Crowley gave the dead birds a pointed shake. “Don’t need fish. Got plenty of bait right here.”

Newt turned even greener.

_ Cannibalistic seagulls… what next? _

*~*~*~*~*

“AAAAHHH!!!”

“Show no fear, twitchy human! They feed off of it!”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HELP MEEEEE!!”

“Watch out for the beaks! The  _ beaks _ !”

“AAAAHH!!”

*~*~*~*~*

Half an hour of  _ literal  _ blood, sweat, and tears later, Newt was the proud owner of a single, deceased gull. He held it in trembling, reverential hands as if he were gazing upon the Christchild himself.

“I… I  _ did  _ it!” breathed Newt, spitting a bit of his own blood into the sand.

“You sure did,” Crowley patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Congratulations on your first successful hunt.”

Crowley didn’t have the heart to tell him that the seagull Newt had singled out for execution was old and diseased, and had died instantly of a heart attack when the fight began.

“So what happens now?” Newt held the dead bird away from himself.

Crowley swung his own bundle of pilfered poultry over his shoulder.

“Now we present our successful kills to our chosen mates,”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra and Anathema were having a wonderful time at the rockpool, swimming and sunbathing and just conversing the way best friends are wont to do, when Crowley and Newt materialized from out of the jungle, both looking like they had lost a fight with a pillow.

A very sandy pillow.

Ezra arched an eyebrow and swam to the edge of the rockpool. “Goodness! What happened to you two?”

Newt looked beseechingly to Crowley who leaned over and whispered to him, “Follow my lead.”

Ezra and Anathema watched Crowley approach, then dump his mangled pile in front of his mate. “Newt and I have returned from a successful hunt. As my mate, angel, I offer you first pick of the spoils.”

Ezra, long since accustomed to Crowley’s unique brand of shenaniganry, climbed out of the water with a glint in his eye. “Thank you for hunting, darling. I’ll take…” He pointed at the  _ least  _ blood-soaked seagull corpse. “...that one!”

Crowley nodded smartly and pushed the pile away with the tip of his tail. “Excellent choice.”

Ezra took his thumb and ran it over Crowley’s lip, then leaned in close to press a kiss to his ear. Crowley smiled. Newt, watching this, held out his own kill to Anathema.

“I don’t have much to choose from, so you can have mine,”

“Thanks… I guess,” Anathema scrunched up her face and Newt’s nervous smile dropped off of his. “What’s with the dead birds anyway?”

Crowley slid into the water, with Ezra following. “Twitchy human was asking for advice on how to court-”

“HUNT!” Newt shrieked, interrupting. “I was asking for hunting advice! Thought I could pick it up as a hobby when we get back home!”

Ezra facepalmed and Crowley looked like he wanted to correct Newt. 

Anathema just seemed mostly disappointed. “I don’t actually approve of recreational hunting outside of population control.”

Newt’s mouth turned down even further. “O-or I won’t, you know? It was just a thought. Might go vegan, actually.”

Crowley groaned at Newt’s floundering, but Ezra was quick to say, “You’ve just given me a  _ wonderful  _ idea, Newt! How about in a bit, the four of us have a nice picnic together? It can be like a double-date!”

Newt shot him a grateful look and Anathema was, surprisingly, on board as well.

“A jungle picnic? Count me in! Come on, Newt! Swim with us for a bit in the meantime!” She splashed the bespectacled man who jumped away with a laugh.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley was leaning with his back against the edge of the rockpool and arms stretched out along it. His head was tilted back, little hissing snores sneaking out every so often as he dosed in the sun. Ezra sat in his lap, resting against him, when Anathema swum up and whispered, “You’re not  _ really  _ going to eat one of those seagulls, are you, Ez?”

“Absolutely not,” replied Ezra without opening his eyes. “I usually either let Crowley have it or I sneak it to his sisters.”

Anathema looked at the  _ obviously  _ geriatric seagull Newt had brought her, then back over to where the man was competing against himself in a breath-holding competition.

“Do you think Blanche will want mine?”

*~*~*~*~*

“Do you know what picnics are, dearest?” Ezra asked Crowley, as the naga passed him a fistful of wild spinach.

Ezra accepted the greens, wicking the dirt off of them, and Crowley gave him a flat look. “I  _ absolutely  _ know what picnics are.”

“Apologies, darling. I didn’t know,”

“S’alright, angel,”

The four of them had found a nice little clearing in the jungle for their picnic, and were now just relaxing on a patch of grass. Ezra handed Anathema some of his spinach, and she took it and crammed a wad in her mouth, unbothered by the dirt.

While Newt and Crowley spent some time discussing the finer points of seagull-catching amongst themselves, Ezra took this opportunity to pry into her love-life (as best friends are  _ obligated  _ to do). “What did you think of Newt’s gift?”

Anathema looked towards her brow in thought. “It’s kinda weird. If he wants to give presents, I doubt  _ Crowley  _ of all people is the right person to ask; no offense intended, of course.”

Ezra smiled and chuckled. “None taken. Crowley’s behavior  _ does  _ take a bit of getting used to.”

“Oi! Are you two gossipping about me?”

“ _ Never _ , darling!”

Ezra and Anathema snickered to each other and Crowley narrowed his eyes.

The occultist waved at the pile of bird offal slowly ripening in the sun. “Ez was just telling me how much he appreciates your hunting!”

Crowley opened his mouth, no doubt to respond with a retort of his own, when there came a piercing yowl followed immediately by Newt’s terrified shriek. The other three jerked their heads around in time to see the man get tackled to the ground by an almost two metre long jaguar, whose powerful jaws clamped shut just  _ centimeters  _ away from the prone human’s nape.

“ _ Newt!!”  _ Anathema screamed.

Crowley was already up and seizing the wild cat by its shoulders to wrench it away from him. The animal hissed and clawed the air, thrashing wildly in his hold. 

Anathema and Ezra hurried to check on their fallen friend. “Newt! Dear boy, are you alright?” Ezra asked.

Newt allowed Anathema to help him to his feet. His back was punctured with claw marks deep enough to draw blood, but not enough to do significant damage. “I… I’m fine. Is Crowley-?”

He was answered by another roar from the jaguar accompanied by the naga’s threatening hisses. The cat had managed to get itself free and the two of them were circling each other, neither one taking their eyes off the other.

Crowley flexed his arms and his scales spread to cover his exposed skin, but not, it would seem, before the jaguar managed to get a few good hits in. The gathered humans could see blood bubbling up from between the interlocking scales.

Ezra moved to help, but Anathema and Newt held him back. “Crowley!”

“Sssssstay back, angel!”

“What’s going on?” gasped Anathema. “Jaguars don’t just attack!”

The animal lunged and Crowley had to dodge to the side to avoid being knocked over. It quickly corrected itself, however, and swiped out with a paw that sparked when its claws scraped across the naga’s scales.

The sight of the paw, thin and emaciated, brought with it a realization.

“It’s starving…” Newt mumbled, eyes widening. 

Anathema tore her gaze away from the fight and turned to him. “What?”

The momentary distraction allowed Ezra to slip free to run and aid his mate. Crowley was strong, but the jaguar was desperate. It kept swiping and trying to bite until it had him pinned against a tree with two massive forepaws. Ezra grabbed it by the tail and yanked as hard as he could. The animal reared back with a screech and quickly turned on this new foe.

“O-oh dear!”

“ _ ANGEL!!” _

Yellow fangs glinted in the sun as the jaguar roared, sending Ezra stumbling back to land hard on his rear. All he saw was a pink, cavernous mouth ready to bite down on his jugular, when Newt was suddenly in front of him, shielding him.

The bespectacled man’s arms were filled with all four of the dead seagulls and he shoved them in the animal’s face like he was trying to smother it with poultry. Behind him, he could hear Crowley checking Ezra over for injuries, frantically muttering, “Angel…  _ Angel…” _

The jaguar, to Anathema’s awe, backed down. Newt began slowly laying down each of the birds under the cat’s nose.

“H-here. I kn-know you’re pretty hungry… probably because all- all the other animals left the area to avoid Crowley,” He set down the final seagull. “Th-th-these should keep you fed long enough to relocate.”

Ezra, Crowley, and Anathema held their breath, waiting for the starved animal to attack again. Newt lifted his hands in surrender and carefully backed away, making sure to avoid eye contact. The jaguar sniffed the pile of offerings, then took one of the birds into its mouth. Once it had its meal, it immediately sprinted for the nearest tree to scale the trunk and eat in peace.

The wave of relief that swept through the humans (and naga) had an almost physical presence.

Newt’s legs felt as if they had suddenly transmuted to pudding and he would have fallen to the ground had Anathema not caught him under the arms.

“ _ Holy fucking shit,  _ Newt! That was- you were- you did-  _ shit _ !” she exclaimed. “That was  _ incredible!” _

She yanked him into a passionate kiss that quickly left the man feeling like  _ all  _ his bones were pudding now. When she pulled away, Newt’s glasses hung crookedly off his face.

“I- er- we… thank you,” he squeaked.

Crowley’s scales, meanwhile, had retracted, allowing Ezra to gentle finger the edges of his chest wounds. 

“Oh, darling, they don’t hurt too much, do they?”

“‘M fine. You?”

“I’m okay too. Everyone’s okay. Looks like those hunting lessons with Newt paid off, didn’t they?”

Crowley looked over to where Newt was still stammering, cheeks the color of tomatoes, and Anathema was rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Yeah. They worked perfectly,”

*~*~*~*~*

“Agh! That shit burnssss!”

“Wha-? It’s  _ your  _ formula! Now  _ you  _ know how it feels, you dreadful thing!”

Crowley whined in pain and frustration as Ezra spread more salve on his mate’s chest. They still had quite a bit left over from tending to Ezra’s wounds from his tumble into the rockpool, so now Crowley was the next poor victim of its painful - if convalescent - effects.

The redhead bit down on his bottom lip until the burn faded, leaving behind a pleasant numbness. Ezra reached over and tore a few strips of linen from some of the older blankets in the nest and wrapped them around Crowley’s chest, tying them off once he finished. The blonde leaned up on his knees to press a quick kiss to his mate’s chewed lip. “There we are! Good as new!”

“What about Newt? You think he’s okay too?” Crowley asked, trying not to sound  _ too  _ worried.

Ezra thought back to how Newt hadn’t seemed bothered by his injuries. In fact, strolling arm-in-arm with Anathema down to the beach to get their first-aid kit from the boat, he didn’t seem to be bothered by anything  _ at all. _

“He’ll be fine, darling. He’s got Ana to look after him now,” Ezra smiled, as he climbed into his mate’s lap and made himself comfortable.The blonde’s fingers flitted down Crowley’s body, stopping at his hips. The redhead sighed and leaned forward to rest his head against Ezra’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have got in the way,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “You could’ve been hurt.”

Ezra turned his head and nuzzled into Crowley’s face, whispering, “But I  _ wasn’ _ t, dearest. It’s okay.”

He gave a delicious little wiggle of his body, spreading his legs and properly straddling his mate. Crowley whimpered and tried to pull himself even closer. They simply held each other for a minute, then Crowley lifted his eyes and Ezra tangled his fingers through the naga’s hair to pull him into a kiss.

Crowley whined and slid his hands up Ezra’s back, who coaxed both of their mouths open. The blonde took advantage of his position astride his lover and ground his hips down, trying to coax out his hemipenes. The redhead retaliated by shoving his tongue into the other’s mouth and tangling them together. Ezra was helpless to do anything but arch against the body below him as his mind went fizzy with sensation.

The only warning he got was the feel of Crowley’s smirk, and then he was flipped onto his back. 

“What do you want?” Ezra murmured as his hands drifted around his mate’s shoulders to grip at them.

Crowley’s eyes were  _ burning, _ yet hesitant. “Is… um… can I… can I fuck you?”

Ezra smiled and let his head fall back against the pillows with a soft  _ whumpf  _ as his eyes fluttered shut. He took a moment to collect himself, then opened his eyes again to see Crowley still watching him, but looking more unsure. The blonde’s words came out breathy, “ _ Yes _ .”

Ezra expected to be met with desperate ferocity, but Crowley just pressed kisses along his jaw all the way up to his ear. 

A little frustrated, Ezra started trying to wriggle out of his jeans, only to be met with snaky laughter. “Someone’s a little eager, huh?”

Ezra pouted at him. “I’d be a bit  _ less  _ eager if we were actually  _ doing  _ something.”

“Then allow me…”

Crowley slipped his hands down Ezra’s body, cupped at the bulge he found between his legs, then began undoing the button and zip torturously slow. Ezra gave a growl of impatience and smacked Crowley’s hands away to yank his pants and boxers down in one instantaneous motion.

“I said, ‘allow  _ me _ ’,” snarled the naga and sunk his fangs into Ezra’s neck.

Ezra howled and started scrabbling for his mate’s cocks as if he would die without them.

“ _ Gimme.  _ Gimmegimmegimme-”

Crowley grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. “Ah ah ah. Impatient angels have to wait their turn…”

“Oh  _ blast  _ being patient, Crowley!”

“If I move my hands to take off your shirt, will you keep them still or am I going to have to hold you down again?”

Ezra squirmed undecidedly. On the one hand, being restrained by his lover’s powerful hands and being messily fucked while still half-dressed was the stuff of all his dirty fantasies rolled into one. On the other hand, being able to feel Crowley skin-to-skin was always a treat…

_ Decisions, decisions… _

In the end, he went with what he knew would make his love happy and kept his hands still when Crowley backed away.

“ _ Good  _ mate…” the naga purred. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

The redhead’s hands came to rest on Ezra’s chest, just above the tiny white buttons of his powder-blue dress shirt. 

Then he fisted his hands into the cloth and ripped it in half down the center, scattering buttons like coins on the sidewalk. 

Ezra almost came right there.

The sight of Crowley’s  _ effortless  _ display of strength had him panting as if he’d just sprinted a full kilometer and sweating just as much.

“Oh, God,  _ please _ !” he sobbed, throwing his head back and thrusting up into the air.

It was hard to hear past the blood rushing in his ears (and other places) but he could almost make out the sound of leaves unwrapping, a berry being crushed, and the bellows of his mate’s heavy gasping as he slicked his hand and one of his cocks.

“Do you…” Crowley paused to steady his words. “...do you want both or just the one?”

Ezra’s higher thinking ground to a screeching halt at the thought of being stretched full on  _ both  _ of his mate’s hemipenes. Where it  _ should  _ have intimidated him, he only felt excitement - if tempered with a bit of caution.

“Just… just one for now. But ask me again later,” Ezra replied with a saucy waggle of his eyebrows.

Crowley let out a throaty laugh and then he was suddenly at Ezra’s side, sinking one and then two berry-lubed fingers inside him. Ezra spread his legs to give his mate more room to work, who, in turn, groaned appreciatively at the sight.

Crowley continued working him open until Ezra was squirming fitfully and making pleading little whimpers. His hands came up to frame his beloved’s face. “You’re mine, aren’t you? And I’m yours?” he asked, and Crowley nodded happily. “Then fuck me like I am.”

Crowley made a face like he’d been simultaneously smashed to atoms and then reconstituted into a being made entirely of stupid-lust, kissed Ezra (helpless to do anything else), and lined up his right hemipene against his mate’s stretched hole.

Ezra opened his mouth to urge him to  _ hurry up _ , but Crowley beat him to it and thrust in. The scolding Ezra was all set to give turned into a relieved moan that sounded as if it had been wrenched out of his very  _ soul. _ Crowley was hissing through clenched teeth, but held himself back, going as slow as he could so as not to hurt the fragile human beneath him.

Ezra hooked his ankles around Crowley’s hips and urged him deeper.

“Faster! Don’t stop!” the blonde gasped aloud.

Crowley, of course, obliged, pulling out almost all the way to hammer back in again and again and again-

The naga hunched double to press their foreheads together as they gasped and breathed the same air. They were already joined in body, mind, soul, and heart - why not make it breath as well?

“ _ Harder!” _ Ezra panted, vocalizing his desires into the scant space between them. “And- and touch me,  _ please _ ! You won’t hurt me! I  _ love you _ !”

The human came almost the instant he felt calloused hands wrap around his cock.

Ezra just kept repeating “ _ I love you _ ” over and over and Crowley pleaded to hear him  _ say  _ it over and over as they both rode out their orgasm together.

Afterwards, Ezra clenched down on his mate’s cock, trying to keep it  _ and  _ his release inside of him as long as he could. Crowley whined, overstimulated, and Ezra finally had to allow him to slide out. He didn’t go far, however, and kissed the blonde on his lips and the inside of his wrist.

“I love you too,” said Crowley. “Didn’t get a chance to say it back there.”

“Don’t  _ I _ know it,” Ezra chuckled, and took his hand.


	20. The Visit: Day Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four people are crammed in a tent and Crowley reveals a bit about an old friend of his...

The next morning Ezra and Crowley strolled hand in hand down to the beach to see how Newt was feeling after yesterday’s jaguar attack only to see a blue dome of polyester hammered into the sand.

Crowley slithered a circuit around it and pinched the material between his fingers. “What is _this?”_

Ezra crouched down near the zipped-up entrance flap. “It’s a tent, dearest.”

“Ooohh…” Crowley breathed. He ran a hand over the material appreciatively. _“Much_ nicer than just canvas.”

The blonde nodded and pulled down on the zipper. Almost instantly, Medina came tumbling out to land on his back in the sand with a grunt.

He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

He groaned deeply. “Ugh… what time is it? Is it over?”

Ezra stared down at him, utterly baffled. “It’s almost noon, I believe. And is what over?”

Medina lifted his head to look towards the ship, squinted at the scarf tied to the railing, and dropped his head back down with a sob as he covered his eyes. “It’s _still_ not over, Gabe!”

Gabriel, looking more dishevelled than Ezra had _ever_ seen in recent years, crawled out of the tent on his hands and knees to promptly collapse face-down beside Medina.

“God have mercy…” the younger Fell brother wept.

Seeing his normally so well put-together brother and the more-oft-than-not stoic Medina both on the verge of a mental breakdown had Ezra feeling all shades of worry.

“Did something happen?” he furrowed his brow. “Are Anathema and Newt-”

Medina and Gabriel howled in agony, cutting off his words.

‘They just. Won’t. Stop!” Gabriel lamented, punctuating each word with a pounding fist to the ground.

Medina uncovered his face and gazed up at Ezra through heartbreaking eyes. “Those two won’t stop going at it! Anathema kicked Gabe and I out of the cabins, tied a scarf to the railing, and told us not to come back aboard until the scarf was taken down. We’ve been out here all night!”

“At least she left us with a tent. Forgot any blankets or pillows though…” Gabriel sighed.

Ezra “snrk”-ed and tried _desperately_ to keep from erupting into peals of laughter.

Crowley, however, had no such reservations.

He doubled over, clutching his stomach and cackling. “Y-you… you two got _kicked out_ of your own b-b-boat!”

Medina and Gabriel glared at him and Ezra tried to look scolding as well.

“Now, now, dearest… it…” he crumbled. “...it’s technically _Ana’s_ boat because she- she reeeHEEnted it so sh-she can do- do _whatever_ she wants wi-with i-i-i-it!”

Now there were _two_ voices breaking out in shrieking laughs.

Gabriel threw a handful of sand at them. “Are you two done?”

Ezra was the first to recover and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

“Yes. I believe so. Terribly sorry for- for making light of your situation,” he giggled.

“You want me to climb up there and go pull them apart?” Crowley offered and forced the last of his chortles to recede.

“Nah. Gabe might me a cockblocker, but I’m not,”

Gabriel sputtered indignantly as Medina rolled onto his stomach.

“If you’d like, Crowley and I could bring you some blankets and pillows and you two could catch up on your sleep,” suggested Ezra.

_“God,_ yes! Thank you, Ezra,” said Gabriel.

“I’ll get some of the unused ones from the nest. Want to come with, angel?”

Ezra glanced over at the ship, then at where Medina and Gabriel sprawled, half-dead in the sand from lack of sleep in an uncomfortable tent. “Excellent idea, darling!” he said beatifically.

***~*~*~*~***

Storm clouds were gathering overhead, thick with the promise of rain, by the time Ezra and Crowley returned, arms laden down with the promised goods. Gabriel spotted them first and staggered across the beach to take a pillow and quilt from his brother’s hands with a relieved, _“Thank you!_ Now I can catch up on my beauty sleep!”

“Yeah, you need it more than anyone else here,” Medina snarked as he took his own things.

It was a testament to how exhausted Gabriel was that he didn’t defend his honor in favor of simply slinking wretchedly back into the tent.

“Aren’t you going to get some sleep as well?” Ezra asked when he noticed Medina simply tossing his pillow and blanket inside the tent.

“Later. I went longer than this without sleep during Basic Training, so I’m already used to it,” the captain dusted his hands. “I actually want to talk with you two and see how you’re doing after what happened the other day.” Medina’s eyes turned worried when they landed on Crowley. “Are you okay, big guy? You had Ezra and I really worried.”

Crowley stammered a few half-baked words, eyes darting everywhere. He looked, in a word, ashamed. “Yeah. ‘M fine. All good now, thanks.” he settled for saying.

Medina nodded happily and clapped a hand on the naga’s back, then winced in pain at how it felt like he’d just smacked his palm against a fleshy boulder.

“Gotta hand it to ya…” Medina began, shaking his wrist. “You were a bit of a powerhouse. Think you could spar with me for a bit? I’m kind of out of practice since Combat Training.”

Crowley arched a single eyebrow.

“You want me to _fight_ you? You wouldn’t last a _minute,”_

“He said _‘spar’,_ darling,” Ezra corrected. “Not ‘fight’.”

“I _know_ what he said,” Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically, but wholly free of venom. “And I _still_ meant it.”

“O-ho! You might be bigger, but _I_ have _experience!”_ Medina declared. He made to roll up his sleeves, realized he just had on a black t-shirt, and let his arms fall dumbly to his side.

Crowley made an unimpressed “hm” noise, then crouched into a grappling position.

“Alright. Let’s see if you can last longer than a minute against me, boat human. I’ll even hold back a little,”

“Do be careful of your scratches, dearest!” Ezra said.

“I’ll be fine,” Crowley winked. “I’ve got an angel to kiss them better.”

“Hey, if _I_ get hurt, do _I_ get a kiss from an angel?” Medina’s voice was playful right up until he was tripped up by a thick tail.

Ezra shot his mate a frown, who was doing his best to look innocent, complete with as close to a cherubic smile as his fangy mouth could muster.

“Okay, I deserved that one,” Medina coughed, climbing back to his feet. “But for real, come at me, Crowley. Let’s see how long I can last.”

The naga obliged, surging across the gap between the two of them to lock their arms together in a struggle for dominance. Medina dug his heels in, but felt himself be pushed backwards almost an entire metre. His feet slipped out from under him and he went down, pulling Crowley with him. The naga, surprised at the sudden disappearance of resistance, let his hands loosen and that gave Medina the opportunity he needed.

He slipped behind Crowley and wrenched one of his arms behind his back in an attempted armbar. He pressed his weight forward, trying to drive his opponent’s face into the ground, but Crowley’s tail came around his throat and yanked him away.

“Ack! No fair!” Medina gagged as he scrabbled at the constriction.

Crowley smirked. “How is it not when you have _legs_ and I don’t anymore?”

Medina wriggled free and flung himself onto the redhead’s back, one elbow locking around his neck. “Ha! Gotcha, you cheater!”

Crowley made a strangled noise, then ended the match decisively when he fell backwards, squashing Medina beneath him. The arms around his neck went slack.

“O-okay, I yield,” Medina’s voice was shaky and he sounded like all the wind had been driven from his lungs. “You win.”

Crowley leapt up, both fists pumping the air. “Yes!” the naga declared triumphantly. _“Still_ the reigning king of this island!”

He looked back over to where Ezra was seated cross-legged and biting down on his knuckles, watching the entire spectacle.

“You okay, angel?”

Ezra blinked rapidly. “Hm? Oh! Yes, my darling!” he quickly answered. “That was quite the match! Are you both alright?”

Crowley lent Medina a hand, who used it to pull himself up. “Never better,” Medina replied, rolling his shoulder. “I can see that I should have kept up with my practice.”

“Well, in your defense, Crowley can lift hundreds of kilograms with ease. You were just…” Ezra paused. “...not outmatched, per se, but out muscled. I _do_ understand where you’re coming from, however. I used to fence in college and it’s been a while since _I’ve_ had any practice, too.”

“Really? Mind giving a demonstration?” Medina smiled.

“You never told me you could sword-fight, angel,” Crowley said, surprised. “Why didn’t you mention it? I would have practiced with you.”

Ezra frowned in confusion.

“I never brought it up because there was never any reason to. But, love…” he replied slowly. “...when did _you_ ever fence?”

Crowley’s face darkened for a moment, then returned to its characteristic nonchalance. “Eh, a while ago; _Long_ before I ever met you. And, _technically,_ it wasn’t fencing.Just regular sword fighting. I haven’t had anyone to fight against or practice with in a long time, so my technique might be a little rusty. If you’re willing to spar with me, however, I can get us some sticks or something.”

Ezra could see the tenseness in his mate’s shoulders. The serpentine eyes were practically _begging_ him to not pry any further.

So he didn’t.

_I hope, one day, he’ll feel comfortable talking to me about these things. Though I do wonder how long I’ll last before I get fed up and try to_ **_shake_ ** _the information out of him…_

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra and Crowley stood a few paces apart. Each of them held in their hands a single piece of driftwood scavenged from the beach. Ezra’s was a long, thin piece just under 100cm and Crowley’s was thicker and flatter, but shorter and curved upward slightly.[1]

The blonde had one foot planted back and held his “sabre” upright in front of his eyes. Crowley just twirled his idly between his fingers. Medina was torn between who to watch: Ezra’s grace and poise, or Crowley’s confident nonchalance.

Ezra smiled. “Ready, dearest?” He waited for the naga’s reply, making sure to meet his gaze.

Crowley blew him a cheeky kiss. “Yup.”

“Very well…”

Ezra took an offensive lead, slashing diagonally with his weapon. Crowley effortlessly lifted his own to parry the attack. The naga yanked his arm up, knocking away Ezra’s stick and slashing downwards in a riposte move. Ezra made to block, but Crowley instantly shifted his attack into a feint which scraped the tip of his own stick gently but pointedly across the human’s side.

Ezra leapt away with a squeak and Crowley grinned, eyes full of love.

“Point to you, beloved,” the blonde murmured fondly.

Medina applauded politely as Ezra and Crowley returned to their earlier positions facing each other.

This time, Ezra lunged, but Crowley jumped away in time. The redhead made a similar move in retaliation, but his mate was able to disengage it by catching the flat side of the stick against his own. Ezra took this opportunity to slash upwards, catching Crowley in the chest.

“A-ha! Point to _me!”_ he said.

Medina jumped up with a whoop and wolf-whistle.

“Last point decides the victor?” Crowled asked and watched as Ezra took his place in front of him.

“Excellent idea,”

Inwardly, Ezra was _determined_ not to lose! He was somewhat competitive by nature, and enjoyed the thrill of a hard-won… well… win!

_I still have_ **_one_ ** _trick up my sleeve…_

The blonde moved into a slash-feint combo, but at the last second, twisted his elbow to where his slash changed direction halfway through, unbalancing Crowley who’d been preparing to block it.

Before Ezra could deliver his final jab, Crowley was suddenly raining down blow after blow in a beat attack. It was all the blonde could do to raise his own stick to keep from being clobbered.

“Th- that’s enough, Crowley!” Ezra stammered worriedly. “You can have the point!”

Crowley didn’t seem to hear him, his slashes becoming clumsy and desperate. Ezra was truly on the defensive now, stepping backwards as his mate pressed his advantage.

Suddenly the naga delivered a truly devastating downwards swing, snapping Ezra’s smaller driftwood in half, then slashing horizontally and slicing him across the chest. The blonde went down hard on his back.

From somewhere in the distance he could hear Medina shouting, but it was overshadowed by Crowley pressing the “edge” of his weapon into the soft flesh of his throat as if he were planning to slit it.

Ezra gazed up into eyes that seemed to be flickering between orange and gold.

“C- Crowley?”

The naga blinked once, and his eyes returned to - and stayed - normal. 

“Angel? What are you doing?” the redhead asked.

“M- me?! What are _you_ doing?!”

Crowley looked down at where he was pressing down with his weapon hard enough to bruise the skin beneath it. 

He gasped and flung it away, before helping Ezra sit up. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“You, um, I think you just got a little carried away is all…” Ezra mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Crowley went pale and asked, “‘Carried away’? H-how?”

Ezra looked down at his hands, then up at his mate. “You were… different. You just kept striking and didn’t let up until I was on the ground. Your eyes even… they changed for a second.”

“I… I’m ssssso _sorry_ , angel! I started trying to remember how to use a sword and I- I… I went somewhere,” Crowley explained, voice heavy with contrition.

Ezra scooted closer to cup his face. “Where did you go?” he whispered.

Crowley closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Bad memories…”

Ezra had read about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and the effects it could have on individuals who suffered from it. Could his mate have it? Just what had _happened_ that Crowley didn’t want to talk about?

Ezra, as much as he wanted to try and get to the root of the other’s suffering, knew that digging into a fresh wound post-flashback would only upset him and potentially cause him to retreat further.

No, this required a _subtle_ touch…

“Your technique is quite impressive. Where did you learn?” Ezra asked, shifting to lean against his mate’s side.

“I, uh… had a friend. His name was Edward. He taught me _everything_ I know about sword-fighting,” Crowley’s tone was tight, but he wore a fond smile as he looped an arm around the blonde’s shoulders.

Ezra knew that there had been other humans in Crowley’s life before him. He’d mentioned as much the first time they’d ever been intimate. 

_Another piece of the puzzle slots into place…_

“Tell me about Edward. What was he like?” Ezra asked.

“He was… something. You think _I’m_ tall and lanky? You should have seen _him!_ I used to tease him that he had more height than sense!” Crowley chuckled, though he still seemed far away.

Ezra could tell that his love was retreating back into his “bad memories”, so he attempted to pull him back to the present by changing the subject away from friends that may or may not be long dead.

“Do you think Anathema and Newt are still… in congress?” he asked.

Crowley looked back over his shoulder at where the scarf was still billowing free in the ocean breeze.

“Yup.”

“Are you _shitting_ me?!” Medina exclaimed as he walked up to where the two of them sat. “They’re _still_ going at it?!”

Ezra gave him a grateful look that he didn’t bring up what happened during the fencing match, which was responded to with an understanding nod. Medina immediately returned to ranting about how he and Gabriel were “cruelly kicked out”.

Ezra smiled ruefully. “Well… I suppose it could be worse-”

“No! Don’t say tha-”

As if on cue from God Herself the clouds overhead finally delivered on their promise. The sky opened up, sending warm, torrential rain down on the island. 

Ezra, Crowley, and Medina all scrambled for the tent in a bid to escape the downpour.

Gabriel had exactly half a second of sleepy confusion before the tent flap was yanked open and three soaked bodies crammed themselves inside. The tent itself was built for four people, thankfully, but with Crowley’s added length (thanks to his tail) it was a _very_ tight fit.

Crowley’s whole body was looped around itself in a pile of coils that squashed Gabriel against the adjacent tent wall.

“What the _fuck,_ guys…” he groused, still half-asleep.

Crowley growled as his head was pushed against the tent roof and Ezra was sprawled on top of something warm and alive that was hard to see through the tangle of bodies.

Beneath Ezra, Medina tried his best poker face to keep from revealing just how _not at all upset_ he was at this position.

“Sorry, Gabriel. We needed a place to hide from the rain,” Ezra sighed, and moved his knee to where it rested outside Medina’s hip.

The captain made a tiny, flustered whine that was inaudible over the sounds of the storm and kept his arms rigid at his side. Crowley moved an elbow to try and get comfortable, but ended up jabbing Gabriel in the temple.

The younger Fell brother snapped.

“That’s _it!”_

“Oi, human, what are you doing?!”

“B- brother! That’s-”

“Get off me, Gabe!”

***~*~*~*~***

Away from the chaos of the tent, Anathema and Newt sat on his bunk playing Go-Fish in their pajamas. When Anathema passed him two of her threes, he perked up for a moment.

“Hey. Medina and Gabriel haven’t been back since we asked them to leave for a bit,” he said. “Where do you think they went?”

“I dunno,” Anathema shrugged, entirely unbothered by their absence.

“Did you ever take the scarf down after last night?”

Silence.

Then peals of laughter.

Anathema rolled off the bunk from cackling so hard.

“Do they think we’re _still_ having sex?!” she shrieked with mirth.

“I… I think they do!” Newt’s breathing was wheezy as he wiped away a tear. “I should probably take that as a compliment, then!”

Anathema crawled her way back onto the bunk and pecked the tip of his nose. “Let’s see how long we can keep this charade up before they kick down the door.” She settled back on her rear and picked up her hand of cards. “Got any fours?”

***~*~*~*~***

Everyone in the tent was stunned and slightly traumatized, save for Gabriel, who was quite content with the current arrangement.

It had taken 12 elbow jabs, 6 well-placed kicks, a hip/shoulder-check or two, and _plenty_ of gratuitous shoving (all courtesy of one _extremely pissed_ Gabriel Fell) before all the bodies within had been manipulated into a configuration that allowed him to _actually_ go back to sleep.

Crowley’s tail was now looped around the rim of the tent’s interior, like a scaly fence, and he leaned back against it with his arms spread wide. Ezra was snuggled under his right arm on his side, head pillowed on Crowley’s shoulder with Medina spooned up behind him (who was still keeping himself as rigid as a board. A very red-faced board). Gabriel was tucked under Crowley’s left arm, happy as a clam.

Apart from the man’s soft snoring, the only sound to be heard was the drumming of the rain on the roof tent.

Ezra was the first to attempt to break the awkward silence.

“Well. This is very… intimate,” he said.

Medina whimpered. 

Crowley moved his right arm to try and pull Ezra closer, but only succeeded in pushing Medina harder against the blonde’s back.

The captain was certain that any moment he’d spontaneously combust.

Crowley blinked, feeling a little sluggish from all the addictive body heat. “You guyssss ‘r _warm.”_

“Terribly sorry, darling. Let me just…” Ezra scooted a bit backwards to try and keep from overheating his mate and unconsciously pressed himself directly into Medina’s lap, who wanted to cry.

“No, no, it’s nice,” Crowley said.

“Oh! Well then.” Ezra returned to his place against his mate’s side and Medina sent up a prayer of thanks.

The three of them laid together for a time, listening to water from the sky striking the ocean below.

“You know, you never _did_ show me that hot spring you mentioned some time ago. Is a visit there still on the table?” Ezra murmured into Crowley’s shoulder.

Crowley nuzzled the top of silvery-white curls.

“Yeah. It’s a nice place, too. We can go there now if you like,” he smiled.

“It’s a little wet outside, though, isn’t it?” Ezra answered back.

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, jostling Medina and Gabriel (who mumbled fitfully in his sleep and kicked ineffectively at the naga’s tail).

“So? It’s pretty relaxing, actually. Sitting under the cool rain while you’re soaking in a warm spring feels like swimming but without the whole… not breathing thing,”

Ezra “ooh”-ed and wiggled excitedly.

“Lead the way then, dearest one!” he tittered.

Crowley took him by the hand and the two of them swept out into the tent and into the rain. Gabriel’s head thunked against the tent floor, no longer supported by Crowley, but he didn’t stir.

Medina breathed a sigh of relief and made to catch up on his _own_ sleep.

***~*~*~*~***

Crowley and Ezra ran hand-in-hand through the jungle (or slithered, in Crowley’s case) giggling like school children who’d decided to play hooky from class. Water pelted the canopy overhead, giving the air and leaves the distinct smell of petrichor but layered with the scent of tropical flowers crushed beneath the fat raindrops.

At one point Crowley had lifted Ezra into an impromptu twirl before pinning him against a tree to snog him silly. 

Ezra hadn’t complained in the least, even when his shirt became hopelessly soaked through and stained with mud. He’d simply wrapped his arms and legs around his mate to accept the kisses.

It was so _nice_ to see Crowley letting go of the “fencing incident” and just enjoying himself.

_I suppose sword-fighting will have to be put off for a bit until I can get to the source of his fear. Though, is it even sword-fighting when it’s just sticks?_

The hot spring, when they finally made it there after two more tree-pinnings, was different than Ezra had been expecting.

In his mind, he’d pictured a large, sprawling body of water like the rockpool, or a multi-tiered one like in Japan.

This one was little better than a hole in the ground the circumference of a jacuzzi.

The water bubbled and frothed, with steam billowing from its unsteady surface.

Crowley held out his arms triumphantly. “Ta-da! Whaddya think?”

Ezra eyed the spring warily. “It looks a little… cramped.”

Crowley wiggled his eyebrows. “I thought the term was ‘intimate’,” he teased.

“You’ve got me there,” Ezra capitulated with a smile. “Shall we, then?”

“After you, my angel,” Crowley lilted as he bowed.

***~*~*~*~*~***

1[INSERT PENIS JOKE HERE]... hehe "insert"...[return to text]


	21. Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra decides to confront Crowley about his past in an attempt to address the lingering trauma he may or may not have from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't ACTUALLY planning on writing a "hot spring smut scene" but y'all were so hopeful for one that I felt bad not doing it lol. So I wrote it. Starts at "I absolutely can" and ends at "the blonde smiled warmly".

Ezra hissed through his teeth as he slipped into the spring water. It was hot, just to the left of scalding, but not unpleasantly so. It was deep enough that he had to stand on his tip-toes to keep his head above the surface, but even then he had to crane his neck upwards to avoid the water bubbling into his nose.

A bit of it splashed into his face anyway and he sputtered. “Oh, dear this is- ack! A little difficult…”

“Here. Let me help,” Crowley sighed affectionately and held Ezra by the waist to pick him up and deposit him atop his tail like the human was sitting on a submerged bench.

Ezra relaxed. “Thank you, dearheart.”

Now that he was no longer in immediate danger of becoming overwhelmed, Ezra was able to enjoy the soak, despite the cramped conditions. Crowley had submerged himself almost entirely, with only his nose, eyes, and the top of his head visible. The blonde was certain that, if he could, Crowley would probably spend every waking moment under the water.

Ezra watched him, and could feel the muscled coils beneath him unclench.

_Seems he was still a little tense..._

“Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” Ezra asked with a pat to the crown of maroon hair beside him. “If you do, I have some questions myself…”

Crowley’s eyes focused on him for a moment, then closed as if he were struggling with something. Finally, he shook his head. Ezra huffed and crossed his arms.

“We _need_ to address this trauma of yours at some point. I _know_ it’s painful, but you’ll feel so much better once you get a little bit of it out in the open!” he tried to reassure his mate.

Crowley titled his head back a little until his lips were out of the water.

“Nope,” he said petulantly, then ducked entirely under the surface.

“You can’t just keep _avoiding_ it!” Ezra admonished, practically shouting it.

Crowley’s head popped back up.

“I _absolutely_ can,” he said, then vanished again.

Ezra suddenly felt strong hands grip his knees and pull them apart. 

“Crowley? What on Earth are you doIIING?!” he shrieked as his mate took his flaccid cock into his mouth.

And the thing, traitor that it was, responded almost instantly.

Instinctively, Ezra’s hands flew Crowley’s hair, unsure if he wanted to push him away or pull him in for more. At the first touch of fingers in his hair, Crowley moaned loud enough to be heard under the water and Ezra felt himself grow to full tumescence.

His thighs trembled, wanting to clench together but unable to do so from where the redhead’s powerful hands kept them apart. Crowley seemed to have improved from his last clumsy blowjob, as this time around he was able to take Ezra’s entire length and seal his lips around the base.

Things went a little fuzzy for Ezra at that moment and he gasped for air. His entire body was alight with conflicting sensations. The feel of his mate’s scales beneath him, the heat of the water around him, the slick pressure of Crowley’s mouth on his cock, and the cooling rain above him all conspired to turn his brain to hypersensitive mush.

“Tha’s too… too good. Too _much_ ,” Ezra slurred, slumping to the side.

Crowley gave his tip one final lick before coming up for air. “Are you alright, angel?”

“‘M alright. Just… just got a little overheated, I suppose,” Ezra replied with a hand to his forehead.

“I think _I_ can fix that,” Crowley said, smirking.

He moved his hands from the inside of Ezra’s thighs to the back of them, then hoisted. The blonde made a confused sound, but soon found himself flat on his back on the wet grass by the spring with soothing rain pouring down. He went to protect his eyes, but he was shielded by his mate covering him with his own body.

“Feeling a little better, angel?” Crowley tried to sound teasing, but the concern was clear in his eyes.

Being out of the stifling heat of the spring and into the refreshing rain _was_ doing wonders to make Ezra feel a great deal less overstimulated.

“Oh _yes_ , this is _much_ better,” he sighed happily. “Kiss me!”

Crowley obliged, bringing their mouths together with a moan. Ezra licked into his mate’s mouth and found an eager forked tongue there to tangle with his own. The redhead pressed his body down flush against the one beneath him and Ezra obligingly spread his legs.

Crowley purred into his ear, “Ssssstill feeling okay?”

“ _Absolutely_ ,” Ezra gasped and felt Crowley lick a stripe across his neck from collar to carotid.

The blonde panted and clawed at Crowley’s back as the naga rolled his hempines against Ezra’s own weeping cock. “Don’t stop! Don’t _ever_ stop!”

“ _Never,”_

Crowley sealed his promise with a biting kiss and continued thrusting.

“I’m-” Ezra felt his eyes scrunch shut and his mouth drop open. “-’m _close_!”

“ _Yesssss_ ,” Crowley hissed. “Come for me, my angel, my _mate_!”

Already on the edge from the redhead’s earlier ministrations, Ezra could do nothing but accommodate his lover’s request.

His back arched and his body went taut as if he were a bow pulled back to its maximum give. His nails dug into his mate’s shoulders, leaving behind bright red lines that would thankfully fade soon. Even as he came down from his peak, going limp, Crowley continued rutting against him.

“That’s it, my everything, just like that,” Ezra’s voice was rough as he traced tingling fingers over his lover’s face and hair and shoulders.

He kissed Crowley’s temple and allowed the other to take his pleasure from his pliant body.

“Fuck!” Crowley groaned. “Fucking _fuck_!”

His breath was warm and wet against the junction where Ezra’s neck met his shoulder. Crowley’s motions quickly became desperate and uneven. He made a helpless noise and latched their mouths together one final time as he spilled between them, hips twitching.

Ezra stroked his hair through it, muttering hushed endearments until his mate felt recovered enough to lift off him. 

The blonde smiled warmly. “That was _wonderful_ , dearheart. I take it you’re feeling a little less tense?”

Crowley hummed in confirmation and laid in the grass beside Ezra, wrapping his arms around him as they allowed the rain to clean their bodies.

“In that case, then, perhaps we could talk about-”

Crowley’s eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up.

“Come _on_ , angel,” he said. “Why won’t you just let it go? I already _told you_ that I’m not ready to talk about-”

“How can you _know that_ if you’ve never _tried_ ?!” Ezra demanded, desperate for answers. “There’s _so much_ I don’t know about you! You’ve mentioned there being other humans in your life before me, yet you also talk about how much you distrust them! You learned _sword fighting_ from some fellow named ‘Edward’ whom you _refuse_ to speak of because it brings back ‘bad memories’, but you won’t _tell_ me what those memories _are_ ! And _don’t_ think I haven’t noticed your little remarks about ‘having legs’! Do you think I’m just some stupid, pretty little thing that doesn’t _notice things_?!”

He waited, hoping for an answer, but it never came. Crowley couldn’t look him in the eyes. Ezra let his gaze drop to his lap, feeling quite wretched inside. 

Did his mate not trust him?

“I…” Crowley began in a small voice. “...I don’t think you’re jussssst some ‘stupid, pretty little thing’.”

“Then _why_ won’t you _talk_ to me?” Ezra begged. “You know _everything_ about me, but comparatively, you’re practically a stranger! I don’t know where you came from, I don’t know anything about your family apart from your sisters, and I don’t even know your _birthday_!”

Crowley finally deigned to look at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Do you regret thissss?” he asked softly. “Do you regret becoming my mate?”

Ezra felt lost, but his heart ached at the sight of his love’s fear. “No, my joy. I do _not_ regret choosing you. I _never_ will,” he answered. “I _just_ want to know more about you. I want to _help_ you shoulder whatever burdens you have.”

Crowley bit his bottom lip which wobbled traitorously. Ezra gently cupped his face in both hands with a look of profound understanding.

“I… you won’t love me anymore…” the naga whimpered.

Ezra frowned and Crowley’s breath stuttered at it. He started to tremble. 

Slowly, reverently, the blonde pulled him down to kiss him tenderly. “I will _never_ not love you.”

“N-no,” Crowley moaned and shook his head. “Y-you _will_ if you _knew_ ! There’ssss- I’ve done- I’ve _seen-_ no! I can’t!”

He lurched back and Ezra watched helplessly at the scales from Crowley’s tail spread to cover his torso, arms, and face. The redhead looked down at them and practically screamed, scratching at them, trying to tear them off.

Ezra reached out and seized one of his hands in both of his own. “ _Please_ , Crowley!” he wept, shaking. “ _Talk_ to me! Let me _help_ you!”

Crowley wrenched his hand away. “ _No!_ You _can’t_ help me, angel! _No one_ can help me!” he shouted. “Just… just _go home,_ back to the nest! I… I need to be alone!”

He was then gone in a flurry of movement, leaving Ezra naked and by himself, kneeling in the rain.

*~*~*~*~*

Later, Ezra sat warm, dry, and freshly clothed inside his nest, watching the rain pour down outside from the cave entrance. He worried at the hem of his grey t-shirt.

_Well, that whole mess could have gone better…_

It had been _hours_ and Crowley still hadn’t returned. It was the longest the two of them had ever been apart and, frankly, it was unnerving to not have the other man there.

_Our nest seems so much colder with you gone…_

Ezra spent the entire time that he waited turning the failed interaction over and over in his head, trying to find out if there was _something_ he could have done differently.

_Perhaps I should have eased him into it. One does not simply unload all their trauma at once. No, a careful, methodical approach was what I should have taken. I shouldn’t have just blatantly tried to force him to talk about it._

He continued pacing.

_But then again, sometimes a firm hand is needed. People can be so blinded by their pain that they can’t see the way out, even if it’s right in front of them._

He sighed heavily.

_“Firm hand” or not, I_ definitely _shouldn’t have brought it up so soon after making love. But then_ again _he_ was _just trying to distract me with it, so fair play and all that._

He stopped walking with a jolt.

_Goodness, what am I saying?! This isn’t some little prank I’m taking revenge for, this is my love’s pain and self-hatred!_

Ezra nodded decisively. 

_There’s nothing for it, then. I shouldn’t have pressured him to talk without properly easing him into the suggestion of it first. But then again, I_ have _been trying to ease him into it. In fact, I’ve been_ more _than patient! Still… I shouldn’t have yelled…_

Ezra was working himself up into a right fit. He was torn down the emotional middle between frustration that all his patience had yet to pay off, and compassionate understanding that these things took time.

“I _do_ wish you’d trust me. There’s almost _nothing_ you could do or say that would make me love you any less,” he said quietly into the empty air.

*~*~*~*~*

Deep in the jungle, deeper than Ezra had _ever_ gone, where all the island’s predators feared to tread, Crowley sat perched atop a rock, twirling a round object in his hands. Every so often he paused, tapped the surface of the object thoughtfully with his finger, and then resumed his fiddling.

He’d been sitting in contemplation for hours, heedless of the rain that cascaded over him.

“Can you hear me, Edward?”

Edward, of course, never replied.

Crowley didn’t expect him to.

“I hope you can hear me all the way down there,” he croaked. “‘Cause I’ve got a few choice words for you.”

Crowley tossed the object into the air, then caught it with practiced ease. “I bet you’re just _laaaauuughing_ at me, aren’t you?” he said. “At what I’ve become?”

He swore he could almost hear Edward’s booming laughter over the sound of the rain, though he wasn’t sure if it was real or simply imagined.

_Nah. ‘S imagined. It’s been how many years since last I saw him? Time gets a little fuzzy with no clocks… He’s hopefully long-gone by now._

Crowley gripped the object a little tighter, hard enough to crack it.

_At least he would be if I_ _ever got my hands on him…_

Edward’s laughter had once been joyous and free and warmed Crowley’s heart in a way that only family could. Towards the end, though, it had become harsh.

Thunderous.

Crowley covered his face with his free hand and sobbed into it.

_I shouldn’t have listened to you. I never should have-_

He couldn’t finish the thought. His shoulders shook as he wept, but then something small and dainty was swept up in the breeze and it tangled in his hair.

It was a flower, no bigger than his thumbnail, with five round petals the color of forget-me-nots.

The color of Ezra’s eyes.

Crowley plucked the flower from his hair and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. He’d seen them before. In fact, they only grew in this particular area; he hadn’t been able to find them anywhere else on the island.

“Angel…” he whispered, and let the flower go to be taken again by the wind. “...I’m sorry.”

Crowley looked down at the object in his hands, then to the ground.

“What do you think, Edward? Do you really think it’s possible to just… leave everything behind? Start over?” he asked, even though he knew deep down that his old “friend” was past the point of being able to respond.

“My mate thinks so. His name is Ezra. He tells me that he’ll love me no matter what, but…” Crowley paused, hesitant. “He doesn’t _know,_ Edward! He doesn’t know about the things we’ve- the things _I’ve_ done!”

He thought back to how lovingly Ezra had cradled his face when he looked him in the eye and swore to love him no matter what.

He remembered how his mate had _begged_ him, through teary eyes, to let him help.

Crowley thumped his tail thoughtfully. 

He held the object in his hands aloft, speaking to it as if he were Hamlet delivering a heart-rending soliloquy about long-deceased friends. “I mean… he loves me as I am now, in this form. He never _once_ saw me as a monster. Even… even when _I_ did,” Crowley said in a fragile voice.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath to steel his nerves. “Maybe… maybe I can tell him. Not all of it, of course, but… some. I can tell him _some_ things. Yeah. ‘Some things’ is good. Better than nothing.”

Crowley opened his eyes and looked around the area.

At the yards and yards of scattered human bones, bleached white by the sun.

He smiled ruefully down at the skull in his hands. “Probably shouldn’t start with this one, huh?”

Then he smashed it against the rock, swept the fragments away with his tail to join the growing pile of bonemeal on the ground, and made for his nest.

*~*~*~*~*

“Psst, angel…”

Ezra grumbled and batted away the hand caressing his face.

“Angel, wake up…”

“No… don’ wan’ ‘ny ‘f yer biscuits...”

Through the haze of sleep, Ezra felt a pair of gentle lips press against his own. His eyes fluttered open and his vision swam for a moment before he recognized Crowley crouched in front of him with a fond, if amused, expression. The blonde pushed himself away from the cave wall where he had sat down and fallen asleep against for a nap while awaiting his mate’s return. He arched his back and winced at the popping.

“Nice nap, angel?” his mate asked drolly.

“Never better, love, so long as I have your face to wake up to,”

Crowley’s cheeks turned pink and he suddenly embraced Ezra in a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he teared up. “I shouldn’t have just run off like that.”

Ezra’s arms came up around his mate’s shoulders to squeeze him back.

“I’m sorry too. I meant what I said, about you needing to address your past, but I… I shouldn’t have been so pushy about it. I truly _do_ think we need to talk about things, but not at the cost of your happiness,” he asserted.

Crowley pulled away, but kept their hands entwined. Ezra felt tears welling up, despite his relief that his love had returned to him safe and sound. He chose to focus on the warmth of Crowley’s hands, rather than the sadness that had been weighing on him for the past _however_ long he’d been waiting.

“No, angel, you were right,” Crowley murmured. “I know _so much_ about you, but you know so little about _me._ I’m not trying to be secretive or mysterious or whatever, it’s just that _so much_ of me is… bad… and I don’t want you to _see_ that. Angel, I’m _terrified_ of losing you!”

Ezra nodded, facing his mate fully. “And I’m scared of losing _you._ When you ran off I was so worried! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or lost or if maybe… maybe you were finally fed up with my incessant prodding.”

“I swore to you once, angel, that I would _never_ leave you, but I’ll swear it again and again until you believe me,” Crowley said as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “I… I want to… to talk about it.”

“Really? Are you certain?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah. I am,” the redhead replied. “It’ll… it’ll take a bit before I’m comfortable enough to tell you _everything_ , but… I want to start. Right now.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I _want_ to, angel. Please, let me,”

“Al- alright, beloved,” Ezra breathed. “Where do _you_ want to start?”

“Well… I suppose Edward would be a good one,” Crowley said, obviously nervous. “He was a human I knew.”

Ezra tried to keep the bitter envy off his face. “You mentioned he taught you swordfighting. Was he… was he a former mate of yours?”

Crowley made a weird sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a gag.

“God, _no_ !” He made a face like he’d bitten into a fresh apple only to find a worm inside. “He was, well, I guess you could say he was my best friend. We did _everything_ together.” Crowley caught the tiny sigh of relief that Ezra made and ran his thumb over his lips. “No. I’ve never had a mate before you. There were lovers, but that was a _long, long_ time ago. I’ve never been in love before I met you, either.”

Ezra sat up a little straighter. “Good. The feeling is _quite_ mutual.”

Crowley chuckled and gave him a chaste kiss.

“There’s only ever been you, and will only _continue_ to be you, if I have a say in it,”

The two of them shared a giddy laugh, then rearranged themselves so Crowley was sitting against the wall with Ezra leaning into his side.

“Tell me more about Edward. What was he like?” The blonde looked at his mate hopefully.

“He was very… vivacious. Always running about trying new things and making stupid mistakes that I had to constantly bail him out of. Granted, if he were here, he’d probably say the same thing about me,” Crowley turned to Ezra, a look of fond nostalgia on his face. “I like to think, had you two met, he would have liked you.”

“Where is he now?” Ezra cuddled closer to his mate.

“I’m not sure. It’s been _so long..._ I doubt he’s even still alive,” Crowley stared at nothing, and Ezra could recognize the telltale signs of his mate retreating into his mind. “I wouldn’t want to see him again, anyway. Not after what he did to me…”

Ezra stared at him, concerned. “Come back to me, dearest. Remember: Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Crowley blinked, rapid-fire, and cleared away the memories.

“Right. Yeah. I think… I think that’s enough for now,” he said grimly.

Ezra stood and pulled Crowley up with him onto his tail.

“I’m so _proud_ of you,” said the human.

Crowley gave him a small, tentative smile. It was clear that he didn’t _quite_ believe that Ezra’s praise was deserved, but that it was appreciated nonetheless.

“Thanks, angel,” he said.

“How about, as a celebration for the progress you’ve made this afternoon, we spend the rest of the day together?” Ezra offered. “Just you and me; Nobody else. I can even tell you some more stories!”

Crowley smiled and kissed the back of his mate’s hand. “Temptation accomplished.”

He turned, and that was when Ezra saw a flash of blue tangled in his hair.

_What on Earth…?_

With quick, nimble fingers Ezra plucked the blue thing free and examined it without Crowley even feeling it.

It was a tiny, blue flower that he’d never seen before. As Ezra ran his fingertips over one soft petal, he was overcome with a strange sensation.

For a brief moment, barely a second, he felt a crushing pressure around his midsection, tasted a coppery tang like rusty pennies, and heard the fluttering of enormous wings.

They were gone as quick as they came, however, and Ezra pocketed the flower, the feelings already forgotten.

*~*~*~*~*

Medina left Gabriel sleeping in the tent and climbed the gangplank back onboard the ship, ignoring the scarf rule entirely. 

_They better be done in there, so help me_ God _…_

He banged on the cabin door as loudly as he could.

“I’m coming in! You’ve got 30 seconds to put on your pants or hide under the covers, otherwise it’s gonna get _reaaallly_ awkward for the three of us!” he shouted.

He counted out a (generous, he thought) 40 seconds in his head, announced that he was coming in one more time, and flung the door open.

Newt and Anathema were seated in the bespectacled man’s bunk with a pack of cards between them.

“How long was that?” Anathema asked.

Newt looked towards the wall clock.

“17 hours and 43 minutes,” he replied, before sliding her a pair of fours.


	22. The Visit: Day Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the sixth day of Anathema and Co's visit. They will be leaving the next day, so Crowley helps his mate create a new, fond memory to remember them by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for Impled/Referenced EggPreg/Mpreg.
> 
> HOLY HELL THE EASTER EGG CONTEST WAS ALREADY WON! Dangit lol, I thought I was more clever than that...

Early the next morning, on the sixth and final day of Ezra’s family’s visit, Crowley was lying awake in their nest, twirling a curl of his mate’s hair thoughtfully.

“Hey, angel, your family has to go back home tomorrow morning, right?” he asked.

Ezra moved his head from where it was pillowed on Crowley’s chest to look at him better. “Yes, unfortunately. I wish they could stay forever, but I know Ana’s got her shop to run and Gabriel has his own life back in London. I’d be remiss to try and keep them away from all that.”

Crowley glanced at him.

“What about you?” he asked. “Won’t you miss them?”

“Yes. I  _ absolutely  _ will,” Ezra said, frowning sadly. “But they know that I have no intention of leaving without you, so it’s simply something I will have to live with. Thankfully Medina was kind enough to give me his radio to keep in contact with everyone.”

Crowley gave Ezra a tight hug who returned it in equal measure.

“‘M glad you’re staying with me, angel,” the redhead said into his mate’s shoulders, eyes shut tight. “Don’t want you to leave me.”

“I won’t,” whispered Ezra. “Soon they’ll be back home and we can have  _ our  _ home back to ourselves again.”

Crowley smiled at that. Just him and his angel…

“You know… we should give your family a  _ proper  _ sendoff,” he smirked.

“Oh no. No, no, no! I don’t like that glint in your eye!” Ezra protested as Crowley started giggling maniacally.

“What’s the harm in just a few simple pranks?” Crowley wheedled. “We could give them some… fond memories of their time here!”

“No. Absolutely not. Out of the question. I am  _ shocked  _ that you would even  _ imply  _ such a thing!” Ezra huffed and turned up his nose haughtily.

Crowley’s fingers danced teasingly up and down his mate’s arms. “Think about it, angel… Anathema’s shriek when she finds out that we’ve dyed all her clothes pink… or Gabriel’s shocked face when he wakes up wrapped in seaweed…”

“You are a  _ fiend _ and a  _ terrible  _ tempter!” Ezra scolded, but both of them could hear the interest in his voice. It was clear he had already given in to the idea and was simply trying to keep up a front of righteous indignation. “Although, hypothetically, what  _ would  _ you prank them with?”

Crowley’s answering grin would have sent a lesser man screaming for the hills.

*~*~*~*~*

Anathema was wading in the shallows of the beach, trying to catch the little fish with her bare hands (just like she’d seen in Mulan!), when Crowley came up to her, looking nervous.

“Hey, Anathema, can I ask for your help with something?” he asked.

“Hold that thought for a moment!” Anathema held up a finger, her eyes never once moving from the circling fish. “Just gotta…”

Her hands shot down and,  _ somehow _ , managed to close around a wriggling fish no longer than her finger. She held it aloft with a triumphant hoot before it slipped free to go splashing back into the ocean. It swam away before the occultist got the chance to try and capture it again.

“What’s with the bare-handed fishing?” Crowley asked. “Are you hungry? ‘Cause if you are, I can catch some for you but I’ll have to swim out a bit further to find anything decently sized.”

“Nah. I’m good,” Anathema said decisively. She straightened out and wiped the water off her hands onto her jeans. “I was trying to catch some fish to see if any of them could be used in our potion-making. I’ll admit, using anything other than plants is a bit outside my realm of expertise, but we can’t risk overlooking anything.”

Crowley nodded. “Right. I’d almost forgotten about that. Do you have instructions for potion-making written down anywhere? Once you leave I can just follow them and keep experimenting on my own.”

“Yeah. They’re back on the beach,” Anathema pointed to where her satchel lay in the sand, the corners of a few sheafs of scrap paper poking out. “I’ve already written them all down, but I’ve also taken the liberty of recording a few alchemical properties that I’ve discovered of the native flora since coming here.”

“You’re a wonder,” Crowley marvelled. “I really appreciate having your expertise, which is why I wanted to ask for your help again.”

Anathema looked at the slight worry coloring his face. “Anything, big guy. What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing serious,” Crowley said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ezra just woke up this morning feeling a little nauseated. I think it might have been something he ate last night, so I was wondering if you had any wild mint on hand from our little gathering trips? It’ll help settle his stomach.”

Anathema furrowed her brow a little, but waded out of the water to fetch her satchel. “Yeah. I’ve got some that I actually picked fresh just this morning for tea. Where  _ is  _ Ez, by the way?”

She rifled through her pack, removed a sprig of mint, and passed it to Crowley who replied, “He’s resting up in the nest right now. Said he was feeling pretty fatigued and just decided to catch a quick nap. I’m gonna bring this to him. Thanks for the help, Anathema!”

The occultist watched him slither away, a strange inkling occurring in the back of her mind that she didn’t dare give a name to just yet.

*~*~*~*~*

Later, Crowley hoisted himself aboard the ship’s deck just in time to run into Newt who yelped in surprise at the naga’s sudden appearance. “ _ Cheese ‘n Crackers _ , Crowley! You scared the heck out of me!” the smaller man said, voice pitched up.

“Sorry,” Crowley said, leaning back on his tail and looking  _ not at all  _ sorry. “Just came by to check up on you from the jaguar attack. Is your back healing up?”

“Yeah! The cuts weren’t as deep as I thought they’d be, and Anathema patched me up well enough. I’m just glad we were able to stop it before anyone else got hurt,” Newt replied, proud of his new girlfriend’s first-aid skills.

“That was some pretty quick thinking back there, Twitchy Human,” Crowley praised. “I’m impressed.”

Newt beamed, then his smile fell. 

“Thanks, but that jaguar was starving. It wouldn’t have attacked otherwise,” he explained. “It didn’t look injured, so why was it unable to find food?”

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, it’s an unusual but not rare thing I’ve seen around here,” the naga said. “Most of the animals on the island avoid me. That jaguar must have been a fresh adult striking out to find his own territory and stumbled into mine, where there were no prey animals to be had because they’d all fled from  _ me _ .”

“Huh,” Newt crossed his arms and leaned against the railing. “Makes sense. I guess if you get desperate enough, you’ll attack something bigger than you.”

Crowley pointed at him. “Exactly!”

Then the two of them suddenly heard a voice calling for Crowley from the beach. The two of them leaned over the bow of the ship to see Ezra standing in the sand, bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes and waving wildly to catch their attention.

“Hey, angel!” the redhead greeted with a returned wave. “Do you need something? I thought you were resting!”

“Crowley!” Ezra exclaimed as he did a strange little excited movement with his feet that Newt had once seen be called a “tippy-tap”. “I’ve got something to tell you! Would you come down here for a moment?”

“Sure, angel!” Crowley cast an apologetic look at Newt, who gestured for him to go on, then hurled himself off the ship to land semi-gracefully on the sand with a  _ whump _ sound. “Are you okay?”

From where he stood on the deck, Newt saw Ezra pull Crowley down so he could whisper something in his ear. He watched the redhead’s face contort first in confusion, then shock, then incandescent joy. 

Crowley chuckled hesitantly, as if he couldn’t believe what Ezra was telling him. “You’re… you’re not just messing with me, right?”

Ezra covered his elated smile with a hand as he shook his head, tiny glistening tears springing to his eyes. 

Crowley’s jaw dropped. “You’re- I- We’re- I mean- We’re gonna be…?”

Ezra didn’t answer. He simply continued nodding his head as he took both of Crowley’s hands in his and started jumping excitedly. His mate laughed uproariously and snatched him up to twirl together.

Crowley suddenly stopped, his eyes going wide.

“ _ Holy shit,  _ angel! I need to start building,” he set Ezra down  _ very  _ carefully. “We’ve only got a few hours! Come on!”

He took the blonde’s hand in his and the two of them hurried back towards the jungle, whispering animatedly to each other. Newt watched the two of them go, smiling tranquilly.

_ Aw, that was cute. I wonder what the good news was about? _

*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, Gabriel! Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything!” Ezra greeted his brother, who was currently floating on his back in the rockpool.

The younger Fell flipped himself over and paddled to the edge.

“Hey, Ezra! Nah, you’re not interrupting me. What do you need?”

“I just need your help picking a few things out. I’m having trouble deciding,” Ezra explained.

“Alright. What have you got?” Gabriel asked with a smile.

“Well, which of these names do you prefer: Benjamin or Raphael?”

Gabriel blinked in confusion for a moment before replying, “Uh… Raphael, I suppose?”

Ezra nodded sagely. “Yes, that was Crowley’s suggestion too. I’ve a few more for you if you don’t mind: Nicholas or Christopher?”

“Nicholas. No contest. ‘Christopher’ reminds me too much of those ‘Whinnie the Pooh’ books mom used to read to us. They always kinda creeped me out a little…”

Ezra pouted at his brother’s insult to his favorite childhood book.

“Very well then. Ariel or Melanie?”

Gabriel spread his arms wide, obviously baffled. “Aren’t those from ‘The Little Mermaid’?”

“Ariel is. Not Melanie,”

“Bullshit! Melanie was Ariel’s daughter in the sequel!”

“No. That was  _ Melody _ , not Melanie,”

“Ah,” Gabriel’s fingers drummed on the grass thoughtfully. “Both of those names are kind of dumb. But if I  _ had  _ to pick one, it’d be Ariel.”

“ _ Must  _ you criticize  _ every  _ name I suggest?” Ezra snapped, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

“I  _ absolutely  _ must,” grinned Gabriel cheekily. “As the younger brother, it is my  _ solemn  _ duty to have you climbing the walls at  _ least  _ twice a day.”

Ezra rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“So it would seem. How about these now: Leah or Elli?”

“Oof. That’s a tough one…” Gabriel pursed his lips as he contemplated the options. “...Elli. Leah’s a  _ beautiful  _ name, but Elli’s just… unique. Sounds like a future baker or maybe a nurse.”

“Ooh! A baker!”

Ezra shimmied excitedly for a moment before schooling his features into seriousness again.

“One more, brother dear, and then I’m done: Rose or Lily?”

“Flowers, Ezra? Really? Eh… Rose. She’s my favorite of Crowley’s sisters,” Gabriel’s face fell. “Please don’t tell Dorothy I said that. I don’t want her to cry.”

Ezra promised not to, then re-counted the suggested names.

“Raphael, Nicholas, Ariel, Elli, and Rose Junior,” he stood back up. “Thank you  _ so much  _ for the suggestions, Gabriel. I’d better be off now, I’ve got a few things to do with Crowley.”

The blonde puttered off before Gabriel could ask him what those name choices were about.

_ Huh. Must be writing a new book. _

Gabriel put the thought of names from his mind and continued swimming laps.

*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, Medina followed the sounds of snapping wood and frustrated grumbling into the jungle. He’d been having a pleasant stroll, inwardly hoping to run into Ezra for a friendly conversation, when he’d heard the strange noises and gone to investigate.

His search turned up Crowley, who was breaking off branches from trees and holding them up like he was inspecting the barrel of a rifle to test its sights.

“Hey, buddy, what are you doing?” the human asked.

Crowley didn’t reply for a moment, but then said, “‘M looking for good material. Everything I gather needs to be  _ perfect _ .”

He tapped the stick in his hand against a tree, then grimaced as it apparently made an unsatisfying sound. He chucked it into the distance with nary a thought and then resumed tormenting the foliage. Medina watched him with curious eyes.

“Need any help there?” He bent down and picked up a bough. “I’m not much of a craftsman, but-”

“ _ NO!” _

The piece of wood in Medina’s hand was snatched away faster than he could blink. Crowley sheepishly cast it away. “It’s just… er… well…  _ I  _ need to be the one to gather the materials and do the constructing. It won’t feel right otherwise,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

He ripped a sapling out of the ground and tested its weight before slinging it over his shoulder.

“What are you building?” Medina asked.

“A nest,” Crowley replied simply.

The naval captain did a quick bit of mental math. “Wait. I thought you already  _ had  _ a nest. Why are you building a second? Did something happen to the first?”

Crowley squinted at him, mouth open slightly as if he were inspecting a Bosch painting, then made a noise of understanding.

“No no no.  _ That  _ nest is like… more of a home,” the naga patted the timber in his arms. “ _ This  _ one is for eggs.”

“Wait,  _ what _ ?!”

Crowley turned his head, like he was listening for something. Then, “Oh! Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta get going! I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“When  _ what  _ goes?!” sputtered Medina, but Crowley was already gone, leaving behind one  _ deeply  _ confused seaman.

_ Does… do nagas lay eggs? _

*~*~*~*~*

Anathema, Newt, Gabriel,  _ and  _ Medina all had questions about their friends’ strange behavior and had spent the last hour comparing mental notes on it and trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. The four of them sat in the cabin of the ship, bouncing questions and suggestions off one another in (what they felt was) a brilliant Think Tank.

None of them felt any closer to a true answer, however, and would have continued long into the night had they not been interrupted by loud banging on the cabin door.

“Oi! Humans! Open up!” came Crowley’s shout from the deck.

Each of the four humans looked warily at each other, then moved to open the door, hoping to get some answers.

Crowley and Ezra were standing on the deck of the bow, wearing matching proud grins. The redhead’s arm was draped around the smaller man’s shoulders who held a bundle of cloth in his hands. Both of them had bits of twig sticking out of their hair. 

Ezra was the first to speak. “Everyone, Crowley and I have  _ exciting  _ news!”

The naga angled his head down to nuzzle at his mate’s cheek with a rumbling purr.

“What… what news is that?” Newt asked nervously.

“My angel’s just had a clutch!”

Saying so, Crowley whipped away the cloth, revealing a cushion ladened with  _ five _ eggs. Each one was oblong, roughly the size of a human palm, with flawless, creamy-white shells. 

Ezra began pointing at each one and naming them as he did.

“The one with a bit of yellow in her shell is Rose Junior. The largest one is Elli.  _ This one  _ is Ariel; do be careful around her, she’s more fragile than the rest. The one that looks a little funny is Nicholas. And this one-”

Crowley plucked the fifth and final one from the cushion and pressed a gentle kiss to its hard surface.

“My Raphael,” he sighed. “Daddy’s favorite little troublemaker.”

He placed Raphael back amongst his siblings and Ezra jostled the redhead playfully with his shoulder.

“Quit acting like they aren’t  _ all  _ your favorite. You practically cried when Ariel arrived,”

“You’ve got me there,”

Anathema, Gabriel, Newt, and Medina could only watch in various degrees of shock as the reality of their friends’ words sunk in.

Newt, feeling a touch more curious than the other stunned humans, staggered forward to peer at the eggs like he was trying to unravel some great cosmic mystery.

“How… how does that work?”

Crowley winked. “Same as it does for  _ any  _ baby.”

Newt’s face went slack as his mind desperately tried to make sense of what he was seeing. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, his brain shut down entirely in a Blue Screen of Death and he staggered to the railing to catch himself before he fainted.

Anathema bit down hard on her knuckles, trying to shake herself out of whatever bizarre dream-world she had landed in. “Well. This is… something else.”

“I was hoping you would be their Godmother, Ana,” Ezra said with a hopeful smile. “When they hatch, they’re going to need  _ strong _ role models and I think you’re  _ just  _ the woman to do it!”

Anathema nodded weakly, unable to deny her dearest friend anything he asked.

Even  _ if  _ he was asking her to be the Godmother to his  _ brood of half-human half-naga babies _ !

“I’m… Congrats, Ez. I just… give me a moment to process this and I’ll… I’ll buy you some diapers or something…”

“Oh that would be  _ most  _ appreciated! Although, I’m not quite sure if they’ll even  _ have  _ legs. Is there a company that makes diapers for children with a tail for their lower body?”

Anathema moaned wretchedly and took out her phone to begin trying to browse the web for “Baby Diapers for Babies With No Legs”, entirely unaware of the fact that there was no signal or wifi to be found.

Medina had gone  _ very, very  _ quiet. He was blatantly  _ staring  _ at Ezra’s abdomen, obviously trying to parse out just how he managed to fit  _ five  _ eggs in there. He glanced up at Crowley, then Ezra, and gave them a thumbs up.

Gabriel sank to the floor with a sob, covering his eyes.

“I’m too  _ young  _ to be an uncle!” he wept.

Ezra passed his children to Crowley to hold, who cradled them to his chest, then kneeled down beside his distraught younger brother. “I know this is a lot to take in, Gabriel. But Crowley and I have been wanting this for a while and finally, after  _ so many attempts _ -” 

Gabriel whimpered.

“-we’ve gotten the family we’ve always dreamed of. The children will take a little while before they’re properly hatched but, when they do, I hope they have their  _ wonderful  _ Uncle Gabriel there to greet them when they properly enter the world.”

Gabriel lifted tear-streaked eyes to meet his older brother’s patient, understanding gaze.

“I… I  _ will _ , Ezra,” he sniffed. “I’ll be there for your little ones.”

The blonde squeezed his brother, then stood up to stand in front of his mate, holding the eggs between them.

“Oh,  _ darling _ ! I’m so happy!” he said, delighted. “I have  _ everything  _ I could possibly want!”

“Me too, angel,” Crowley sighed as he pressed his forehead against his mate’s. “Me too.”

“Everything’s so  _ perfect  _ and I- I-” Ezra crumbled into laughter with Crowley following immediately. “I  _ can’t  _ keep this up anymore!”

The other four jerked their heads up in confusion at the sight of Crowley and Ezra cackling like a pair of madmen. Crowley looked as if he were about to have a laughter-induced stroke and Ezra was red in the face with tears streaking down his cheeks.

“What? What’s going on?” Medina mumbled, speaking for the first time since coming on deck.

Crowley managed to suck in a gasp of air to ask, “You- did you four  _ really think  _ that Ezra had laid  _ eggs _ ?!”

“Ah… um… kinda,” Newt answered.

That sent a fresh wave of laughter through the two pranksters. 

Anathema stomped her foot. “‘Cause you two  _ assholes  _ kept giving us all these weird signs! Nausea? Nest-building? Baby names? Come on! You set us up to believe it!”

“So… no nieces or nephews?” Gabriel asked, looking a little disappointed.

“Oh, I’m  _ sorry  _ Gabriel! I didn’t think you’d actually  _ want  _ any-”

“No, no, it’s okay, Ezra. I’m kind of relieved, actually. I’d make a  _ terrible  _ Uncle!” Gabriel said, and climbed to his feet.

Newt, however,  _ was  _ crestfallen. “Aw. I bet they would have been cute.”

Medina prodded at the eggs. “Where did you even  _ get these _ , anyway?”

“Borrowed ‘em from a stork nest,” Crowley answered with a shrug. “Mama stork’s gonna want these back soon, though.”

Ezra sighed longingly. “Such a shame. I will miss having the little ones around.”

He patted the eggs one final time before re-covering them with the cloth.

Anathema shook her head in fond amusement. 

“I’m still pretty mad that you made us look like idiots, but I have to admire your cleverness. Any reason for this little prank?”

Ezra fiddled with his pinkie, eyes downcast. “It was actually  _ Crowley’s  _ idea. He knew that I’d miss you all once you left tomorrow and, well, decided to help me make a fond memory to remember you all by.”

“Well… now  _ I  _ feel like the asshole for getting mad…”

Anathema sniffled and her voice sounded choked. Without a second’s hesitation, she ran forward to crush her best friend to her chest in a fierce, desperate hug. Ezra went stiff for a moment before his hands came around her to clutch at her back.

He then felt a warm pressure behind him as Gabriel came to join the hug, his strong arms long enough to encompass the both of them. Over Anathema’s shoulder, Ezra could see Newt stepping forward, tugging Medina behind him.

Within moments, all the humans were cocooned together in an embrace so close that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. Crowley watched on from afar with a contented smile.

Then Gabriel held out his hand.

“Come on, Crowley,” he implored. “This is a friend and family hug. Last I checked, you were family too. Even if you do play dumb tricks…”

The naga swallowed once, his expression cracked open. He carefully lowered the cushion filled with eggs to the deck, then wriggled his way into the middle of the group hug so that he was pressed to Ezra’s side. His tail looped between the humans’ feet, somehow managing to be in physical contact with everyone there.

The six of them swayed together on the deck, each and every single one of them trying their damndest to make the moment last just a  _ little  _ bit longer...


	23. The Visit: Day Seven (Goodbyes and Departures)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema and Co say goodbye to Ezra and Crowley, their new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely think this is the best smut I've written so far lol (Starts at the final *~*~*~*~* and continues until the end)

Ezra had awoken several times throughout the night, convinced that he was going to miss his family’s departure if he didn’t go to the beach  _ right now _ ! Crowley would simply roll over in the nest, pin him down with an arm across his chest to keep him from bolting out into the night, and sleepily reassure him that Anathema and Gabriel would  _ never  _ leave without saying goodbye. It took a few tries, but eventually Ezra was able to sleep through the rest of the night and awake the morning of the seventh and final day refreshed.

Now he and Crowley stood on the beach, watching the other four pack their things until they were ready (but not  _ ready _ -ready) to go.

“So… what are you going to tell everybody when you get back to London?” Ezra asked his brother nervously. “You’re not going to announce to the public or my publishers that I’m not actually ‘dead’, are you?”

Gabriel ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing.

“This is… an unusual situation, I have to admit,” he said in the same tone as someone deliberating whether or not to call down a tactical strike from orbit. Crowley placed a protective arm around his mate’s shoulders. “I mean… who would  _ possibly  _ believe me if I told them the truth? I guess I could tell your neighbor Tracy that you’re alright. She’s been pretty upset by your ‘loss’ after all. Would that be okay?”

“That would be fine, so long as she swears to secrecy. I trust her not to go to the press, of course, but perhaps don’t tell her everything? Give her some grand story about how I washed up on a small island and eloped with one of the natives and chose to stay behind to escape the whirlwind world of literary success, instead,”

Gabriel threw back his head with a bark of laughter. “That story will be  _ right  _ up her alley. I’ll be sure to tell her that,” the smile fled from his face. “I’ll miss you, Sunshine.”

Ezra gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s alright, brother dear. Crowley and I have a nice radio and Medina’s offered to set you and Ana up with your own rigs so you all can stay in contact with me. I’ll call  _ every day _ and well… I was thinking…”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow.

“...what if the four of you, once a year, came by for a weeklong vacation? I know it’s not ideal, but with Medina’s credentials I’m  _ certain  _ you all could make it here again without getting into trouble. I’d hate for this to be the last time we all see each other…”

The younger Fell brother lurched forward to embrace Ezra. “I’d love  _ nothing  _ more, Sunshine. I hope you continue to be happy in the life you’ve chosen for yourself,” he whispered fiercely.

Ezra could no longer hold back the tears and sobbed into Gabriel’s shoulder. The two of them clung to each other, allowing the tears to fall freely until they tapered out into softer sniffles. Gabriel was the first to pull away.

“I love you, Ezra,”

“I love you too, Gabriel,”

Anathema stepped forward, eyes watering. “Hey, Ez! Don’t I get an emotional goodbye too?” she demanded.

“ _ Absolutely,  _ my dear!” Ezra took her into his arms. “I hope you agree to come visit me with Gabriel and the others.”

“God  _ Herself  _ couldn’t stop me!” Anathema vowed.

Gabriel held out a hand to Crowley, who shook it.

“You’ll take care of my brother, right? You won’t let him get hurt?” he asked.

Crowley looked to Ezra with tender, besotted eyes. “ _ Always _ . I’d rather die a  _ thousand  _ times over than let any harm come to him.”

“I know you will, big guy,” Gabriel said. “Just let  _ him  _ take care of you  _ too,  _ alright?”

Crowley swallowed, then nodded shakily. Seemingly satisfied, Gabriel gave his brother one last clap on the shoulder, then climbed the gangplank back onto the ship. Anathema then gently pushed Ezra over to where her new boyfriend was waiting.

“Newt wants to say goodbye too,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m gonna say ‘bye’ to Crowley for a moment.”

While Ezra was preoccupied with giving his farewell to the shy yacht-captain, Anathema held out her satchel to the naga. 

“I’ve compiled as many notes and instructions as I could, as well as procured a few samples to get you started on your ‘quest’,” she said. “I know it’s not my place, but I  _ really  _ think you should let Ez know what you’re doing. What if he doesn’t  _ want  _ to be made immortal like you? What if he wants to live out his days as a human?”

Crowley snatched the bag away, more than a little unkindly, then immediately looked chastised. “I… I know, human, I know. I  _ will  _ tell him…  _ if  _ I can find a successful recipe. I don’t want to get his hopes up in case I can’t.”

“That’s not an answer to my question, Crowley,” Anathema pressed. “What if he  _ doesn’t  _ want to live forever?”

“You don’t think he would?” the redhead mumbled. He stared at her with cold, hard eyes that Anathema could see were simply used to mask the pain he felt. “You don’t think he’d want to be with me for as long as he could?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you  _ know it _ , you overdramatic noodle,” Anathema huffed. “You do realize that if you succeed, Ezra will outlive Gabe and I? He’d have to watch the rest of his family  _ die _ while he stayed the same. And what if you’re no longer interested in him and decide to end things later? Will you condemn him to an eternity of loneliness, unable to make lasting connections with anyone else?”

Crowley snarled quietly, eyes flashing, and Anathema backed away a step.

“I will  **_never_ ** forsake him! If I find the correct formula, then great! I’ll tell him about it and let him make his decision. If he chooses not to take it, then I’ll love him for  _ all  _ of his remaining days. If he  _ does  _ choose to become immortal, however, then I will love him as he deserves for the rest of eternity!” he growled.

Anathema held up her hands in surrender.

“Alright. Fine. I’m sorry I implied that you would leave Ez. I just…” she sighed, with an expression that was both chagrined and contrite. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or anybody else.”

Crowley went stiff. His hands clutched the satchel so tightly that some of the stitches popped free. Had she been paying attention, Anathema would have noticed the way his eyes flickered orange for a split second.

“Th-thank you, human,” the naga said quietly.

“No problem, big guy. If you have any questions about potion-making, just have Ezra contact me and I’ll see what I can do!”

She gave him a friendly wave, a sororal peck to Ezra’s cheek, and scampered off to the ship, tugging Newt behind her.

Medina was the last to say goodbye, kicking nervously at a shell fragment. He couldn’t seem to meet neither Crowley nor Ezra’s eyes, so the redhead took pity on him and broke the silence.

“It was great getting to know you,” Crowley began. “Even if our first meeting, and several others after, were a bit… less than ideal.”

On second thought, maybe he shouldn't have been the one to speak first.

Medina, however, laughed.

“Yeah! I gotta say, meeting you two has  _ really  _ turned my world upside down. Entirely for the better, of course,”

He tapped nervously at his thighs, trying to find the right things to say. He’d never been good with words. Action was more his speed.

“I want to thank you, Medina. You’ve been so kind to me, and so understanding towards Crowley. I truly can’t thank you enough,” Ezra said.

“It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? I’m just glad that I got to know you both. Especially you, Ezra. Would that I had met you just a bit earlier…” Medina chuckled, only slightly bitter.

Ezra’s face did something funny, then. His brow drew together in the middle, and his lips pouted as if he were puzzling out some grand mystery. He glanced over his shoulder at where Crowley was watching, with fond amusement. The two of them shared some unspoken conversation, done entirely in blinks and eyebrow twitches, before Crowley heaved a put-upon sigh and held up one finger.

“You owe me, angel,” he teased.

“Absolutely, dearest. It’s the least I can do,”

Medina looked confused. “Owe him wha-” 

He was cut off by Ezra seizing his face and pressing their mouths together. Medina squeaked and flailed his arms before deciding to keep them fisted rigidly at his sides as he squeezed his eyes shut. From somewhere behind him, Anathema whooped.

The kiss never went deeper than a closed-mouth pressure, but Ezra was still a little breathless when he pulled away with a, “Oh. That was rather nice, actually. Sorry I can’t do more than that for you, dear boy.”

Medina made a strangled croak as his face heated up enough to practically be seen from space (or registered by scientists at CERN as a new potential source of thermonuclear power). He was prepared to have Crowley snap his neck - and would have died happy - but the naga just gestured for Ezra to come return to his side, who did so gladly.

“I- er-” Medina stammered. “I’m not gonna push my luck and ask if that was only a one-time thing, so I’ll just say ‘thanks’ instead. Um… thanks, Fell.”

Ezra hid a snort in the palm of his hand. “As I said, it was enjoyable. Do be safe, Medina, and we hope to have you all back here again one day.”

“Yeah. Same. I’m gonna… gonna get on the boat now…”

The captain staggered away to the gangplank, still reeling somewhat from the unexpected kiss. Crowley waved, then leaned over and whispered to Ezra, “I hope I don’t look  _ half  _ as silly as that whenever you kiss  _ me _ .”

“Oh darling you  _ absolutely do _ ,” Ezra replied, without looking at him. “Be a dear, would you, and unbeach them?”

“Ouch! You’ve wounded me! You’ve wounded your mate!” Crowley declared melodramatically, clutching at his chest for emphasis.

However, he complied, and grabbed the anchor chain to begin towing the boat back into the ocean far enough for Newt to start up the engine and begin the trip back home. Crowley let go of the chain and returned to his mate’s side.

Ezra waved from where he’d waded into the ocean up to his knees. His smile was beaming, but the tears down his face spoke to just how much he would miss them all. Crowley slithered up from behind and wrapped the blonde in a loving embrace.

“I’ll miss them too, angel…”

*~*~*~*~*

Gabriel and Anathema stood at the stern, watching the island fade into the distance. Neither of them could see Ezra anymore, but both continued standing there.

Finally, Gabriel broke the silence with a softly asked, “Did you take mine and Crowley’s advice and not go digging any further about the island?”

“Mostly,” Anathema shrugged. “I learned a few interesting things about the plants, but I never asked Crowley what happened to all those colonists or who was responsible for killing them.”

“Seems like pertinent information one should ask, but I’m guessing you had a reason for why you didn’t?” 

Gabriel waited for her to continue, and his patience was rewarded when she replied, “Yeah. Because it wasn’t him. Whoever  _ did  _ kill those people is  _ long gone  _ by now. Crowley was no doubt the one who saw to that, even if it wasn’t a fellow naga or whatever.”

The younger Fell brother nodded sagely.

“My thoughts exactly,” 

The two of them lapsed into comfortable silence as the last of the island vanished over the blue line of the horizon.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley kneeled in the surf with Ezra, clinging to his mate as the blonde’s shoulders heaved with the last of his silent sobs.

“Ssh, ssh, it’s alright, angel. Let it out. I know you’ll miss them. They’ll miss you too. Thank you  _ so much  _ for choosing me; for  _ loving  _ me,” he whispered, punctuating each sentence with a kiss to a tear-stained cheek.

“There was simply nothing for it,” Ezra said, giving him a weak, but genuine smile. “I wanted to stay here with  _ you _ . This place is my home, now.  _ You’re _ my home now.”

What else could Crowley do but kiss him?

*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, after they had returned to their nest, Ezra suddenly pressed Crowley against the wall.

“Ah… angel? Are you alright?” Crowley asked faintly.

“Never better, my darling. You said earlier that I ‘owed you’... well I think I have  _ just  _ the idea in mind for paying you back,”

The redhead’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, but he quickly schooled his expression into an eager one.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” he purred, eyes half-lidded.

Ezra didn’t answer. Instead, he gripped Crowley by the arms and pushed him towards the pile of cushions before propelling him down into them. The redhead went without complaint, already  _ painfully  _ excited at his mate’s uncharacteristic display of dominance. 

Usually Crowley was the one to take charge. It worked out for both of their preferences, but it seemed like Ezra was in a more “commanding” mood tonight. 

The human shucked off his polo and slacks so fast that Crowley could hear a seam split, then crawled atop him to straddle his lap. Crowley could only stare helplessly up at the veritable cornucopia of pale flesh above him. His eyes drifted to where Ezra’s legs were spread obscenely over his tail to accommodate the width of it, and he whimpered.

Ezra quickly stifled the sound with a languorous kiss interspersed with whispered words of praise and love. Then, he worked his hand down his own body to coax his cock to full hardness. Crowley lifted his hands, either to touch Ezra or take the human’s member in his own hand - he hadn’t decided yet, but they were slapped away.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ezra chided, then pinned his mate’s hands on either side of his head. “I want you to stay  _ right there. _ No moving!”

“You- wha-  _ angel _ !” Crowley mouthed incredulously.

“Is that a ‘no’?”

Crowley shook his head. “It is  _ absolutely  _ not a ‘no’. Just surprised is all.”

Ezra jutted his bottom lip out in a fake moue. “I don’t see why  _ you  _ get to be the ‘bossy’ one all the time.”

He swivelled his hips, smiling inwardly at the feel of his mate’s hemipenes bumping up against the cleft of his arse and the way Crowley bit back a groan. 

“It’s because…” the naga panted. “It’s because  _ you’re _ a spoiled little hedonist who likes to lay back and be taken care  _ and  _ advantage of.”

Crowley smirked, confident in his assessment, when Ezra darted forward to bite his nipple. The redhead shouted at the sudden sensation, bucking up with his hips and almost entirely unseating his mate. 

He pointedly, however, did not move his hands.

Ezra pulled back with a cheshire grin and licked his lips. “As accurate as your statement is, my love, I think you’ve earned an opportunity to lie back and relax while I take care of things…”

Crowley looked up at him, hazy-eyed and halfway to ruin already.

“By all means, then,” he mumbled as Ezra bent over to brush their lips together.

“Thank you, my darling,” the blonde said when they broke apart. “Now, be a good sport and remember: No Moving.”

When no protest was forthcoming, Ezra leaned over and procured a berry from the little bundle he kept at their “bedside” for just such an occasion. He crushed one in his right hand, making sure to spread the lubrication from it over his fingers.

“I don’t suppose I have to tell you that I’ll be preparing  _ myself _ , this time?” He arched an eyebrow and waited for Crowley to object or complain.

The redhead simply replied, “Better make it a good show for me, then.”

Ezra gasped in mock-offense, then went to task, immediately working in one and then two fingers. It ached a little from his haste to get himself open in a hurry, but he relished the slight pain of it as he wriggled his fingers deeper. He could feel Crowley’s breathing pick up underneath him and he bent over to set his teeth to his mate’s neck, right where a Mark would be if Ezra could make one, and  _ bit _ . 

Crowley moaned and mumbled something about wanting him to leave a bruise, so Ezra obliged and sucked the skin, lavering over the spot with his tongue as his teeth dug in deeper. All the while, he continued steadily fucking himself with his own fingers.

Crowley’s hand twitched.

“L-let me touch you, angel,” he pleaded breathlessly.

“I thought you said you’d  _ behave  _ for me?” Ezra tutted with fond exasperation.

Crowley shivered excitedly at the thought of behaving for his mate, despite the more possessive side of him clawing at the inside of his skull and demanding that he take control of the encounter. 

Ezra took a third finger inside himself, already greedy for more. “ _ Thank you _ , darling.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll behave,” Crowley whimpered, practically whined.

His eyes were scrunched shut and his hands were clawing desperately at the bedding around him. His body trembled with the force of his own restraint to keep himself from moving. Ezra cooed and decided to take pity on him.

He withdrew his fingers at the same time he parted his lips for a scorching, open-mouthed kiss. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for them both just yet, but I’m feeling  _ so empty  _ right now. Do you have anything that could possibly fill me up?” he simpered.

Crowley nodded so fast and so hard that Ezra was pretty sure he could hear his neck vertebrae creak. Ezra smiled coyly and reached a hand back to close around one of the naga’s hemipenes (he couldn’t tell which and it didn’t matter to him anyways). “Oh my! This will do  _ perfectly _ !”

He placed one hand on Crowley’s chest as he lifted himself up to hover over the cock in his hand. It took a bit of maneuvering to be able to sink down onto it without injuring the other one, but soon enough Ezra felt the tip of it nudging against his relaxed entrance. Crowley’s hips twitched barely a fraction of a centimeter upward, but it was enough for Ezra to start slowly taking it in, savoring the stretch of it.

He let go of Crowley’s cock and braced himself with both hands against the redhead’s chest, feeling the “unused” hemipene brushing up against the jut of his thigh. When he was completely bottomed out, he began a slow, steady ride. 

Crowley watched him, enchanted by the sight and the intensity of his gaze had Ezra blushing down to his stomach. Crowley was looking at him as if he were seeing the moon for the first time, with the same wide-eyed awe and open reverence almost akin to worship.

“Is this alright, dearest?” Ezra asked him softly.

“Y-yeah. Thisssss is-” Crowley threw his head back with a groan at a particularly impassioned bounce. “This is fan- _ fucking- _ tastic!”

“Good,”

The previously languid pace that Ezra had set quickly gave way to something faster and more  _ demanding _ . He felt so deliciously full and stretched that he was half tempted to simply sit there atop his Crowley’s cock like it was a throne and toss himself off across his mate’s heaving chest.

“S-slow down, angel! I can’t- I won’t lassssst much longer!” Crowley gasped, looking genuinely horrified at the thought of their lovemaking coming to an end.

“You- You’ve got two, correct? Do… do they both come automatically at the same time or- ha! Or is it independent?” Ezra asked, sinking down again and again in a punishing pace.

Crowley’s pupils dilated even further than they had already been as he mumbled out, “In… independent.”

Ezra gently cupped his lover’s flushed face in his hands. “How would you feel about coming inside me  _ twice _ ?”

Crowley’s mouth fell open and he uttered a noise like his vocal cords had been shredded.

“Ngk. Yeah. That- that sssssounds great. Awesome. Perfect,” he said earnestly.

“Good,” Ezra crooned in a voice like melted chocolate. “Thank you for being so accommodating and  _ so good  _ to me.”

He leaned in for a kiss that was given gladly, though it was less of a “kiss” and more of “Crowley trying  _ desperately  _ to swallow as much of Ezra’s tongue and breath as was physically possible”. The redhead’s first orgasm suddenly hit him with the intensity of a dying star and he started panting and shuddering as he spilled inside his mate, filling his arse with streak after streak of come. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he gritted out as his fingernails bit into his own palm hard enough to leave red crescent marks.

Ezra stopped his movements and simply sat down fully while he waited for Crowley to catch his breath so they could continue. 

“Are you ready for more, dearest?” he asked after a full minute.

“Y-yeah, angel.  _ Fuck _ ! Am I still not allowed to move?”

“Absolutely not,” Ezra replied, and lifted himself up on his knees to allow Crowley’s softening cock to slip free. His other one was still as hard as ever.

Ezra didn’t even need to go slowly this time. He simply slid down over the second, taking it in completely in one smoothe, practiced slide. Some of Crowley’s previous spend was pushed out to drip down onto his scales. It made for such an enticing sight that Ezra moaned unashamedly and spread his legs just a little bit wider, showing off his own leaking prick.

“Oh, darling, I could stay like this  _ forever _ ,” he sighed, brushing his fingers over his erection.

“P-please don’t. I’d probably die,” Crowley gasped for mercy.

“Oh you’re no fun. Alas, I suppose all good things must come to an end,”

Ezra adjusted his angle, finally hitting that remarkable spot inside himself that sent electricity tingling down to his toes. He clutched at Crowley’s (still faithfully unmoving) bicep to keep himself upright as he pumped furiously at his cock to match the pace he was setting.

“Oh! Oh darling I’m gonna- yes! This is  _ perfect!  _ You’re so good and  _ perfect  _ for me, aren’t you?” His words tumbled out of him without any conscious effort on his part to say them. The passionate in and out accompanied by Ezra’s babbled praise quickly had Crowley coming a second time alongside his mate.

The blonde ground his hips down one final time as heat bloomed inside him that left him breathless. At the feel of it, his hand stuttered and he painted his mate’s stomach and chest with his release. All he could do was clutch fitfully at Crowley’s arm as the last of the aftershocks petered out.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Crowley whispered, barely audible over Ezra’s own heaving breaths. “C-can I… please?”

Ezra’s voice was too hoarse to say anything, but he nodded his head and Crowley surged up to curl his arms around him, still sheathed inside.

“You did  _ so well _ , my darling. So  _ perfect _ ,” Ezra smiled and hugged him in turn.

Crowley hummed, not necessarily in agreement, but acknowledgement, and relaxed into his mate’s hold. 

Soon they would need to separate and clean up. 

For now, however, they were more than content to run their hands over each other whispering reassurances of love and devotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So concludes the second arc of the story! Our tale, however, is FAR from over. The third and final arc starts next chapter and we finally get all the answers to everything we've been waiting for...


	24. One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley begins the lengthy process of starting over, and Ezra tells him a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Very, VERY brief mention of Child Grooming (It's within the context of a Fairytale being told)

**1 Year Later**

Ezra could, in all honesty, say it had been the best year of his life. He and Crowley spent every day together just doing whatever struck their fancy, be it swimming at the beach or visiting Crowley’s sisters or simply enjoying each other’s company.

It was still somewhat of an uphill battle for Crowley to talk about himself and his past, but Ezra knew more now than he ever had previously.

He knew that Crowley’s birthday was October 24th (But not the year. They still weren’t quite ready for the ‘I will outlive you’ talk). He knew that Crowley’s  _ favorite  _ food was anything made with eggs (it certainly explained why the local birds detested him) and that he couldn’t grow a beard to save his life beyond a bit of stubble. He had also been illiterate until he met Edward, who taught him to read and write.

The topic of “Edward” was still somewhat of a sore-spot between them. Ezra would gently try to get Crowley to open up more about his friend (whom Ezra was certain was long-dead) but still so much of it remained vague and shrouded in mystery. 

Ezra knew that Edward had been just a bit taller than Crowley, and that they had both liked to wear their hair long. Whereas Crowley’s hair was red, however, Edward’s had been so black it was almost blue. He knew that the two of them had been best friends for a very long time, until Edward did something bad that forced them apart and deeply affected Crowley to where the memories of it still plagued him to this day.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much information, but Ezra took every little nugget and granule with a keen sense of triumph, because some strides were better than none. He was confident that Crowley would tell him the full story eventually.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Oftentimes, when the memories came to be too painful, Crowley would slither off into the jungle to spend some time alone, always coming back with a tiny blue flower tangled in his hair that he never noticed amongst the volume of his curls. Ezra would carefully pluck out the flowers, dry them, and preserve them in his favorite copy of “ _ The Picture of Dorian Gray”. _ He kept it secret from his mate in the hopes that soon he would have enough to make a decent amount of popurri to sprinkle throughout their nest as a surprise gift!

The last year wasn’t all painful conversations and hidden flowers, however. 

True to his word, Ezra contacted his friends and family nearly every day, just spending time asking about their days or anything else that had happened in London. One time, Gabriel had even invited Tracy over to his house to join in on his next call with Ezra, and the woman had shrieked in joy when she heard his voice come through on the other end. She’d gotten even  _ more  _ excited when Crowley spoke to her, though everyone took  _ great  _ pains to avoid mentioning that he, you know,  _ didn’t have legs! _

At this current moment in time, Crowley had gone off into the jungle to gather more plants for his potion making, and Ezra was conversing on the radio with Medina.

_ How Ana managed to rope him into Alchemy, I’ll never know. Still it’s good that Crowley has a hobby… _

Medina’s laughter brought him back to the present.

“I’m sorry, dear boy, what was that you were saying? It went a little staticky for a moment,” Ezra asked, scrambling to make it look like he was paying attention instead of reminiscing fondly over the last year.

“I said, ‘can you believe you were my first kiss’?” Medina chuckled.

That statement gave Ezra pause.

“ _ No, _ ” he blinked. “You’re just playing me for a sucker. You’re so dashing, how were you  _ not  _ kissed before me?”

“I’m not joking, unfortunately. I was a pretty nerdy and scrawny kid growing up. Never had a boyfriend, and I joined up with the navy shortly after high school hoping that it’d toughen me up a little. Turns out I enjoyed rescuing people from the ocean and the rest is history,” Medina explained.

Ezra tried to picture his friend as a gangly teenager with enormous glasses and a pocket protector like in all the 80’s movies, and the image was so at-odds with how Medina currently looked that it briefly gave him cognitive dissonance.

“In that case I apologize that your first kiss wasn’t nicer,” Ezra teased with a single raised eyebrow that he knew the other man couldn’t see.

Ezra could hear the smile on his face when Medina replied, “Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m just glad that when I got back home Crowley wasn’t waiting for me under my bed that night.”

The two of them shared a laugh, then Medina asked how Crowley was doing.

“He’s doing just fine. I’d put him on to say ‘hello’, but he’s out gathering plants right now. Is there a message you’d like for me to give him?” Ezra answered.

“Nah, just tell him I’m looking forward to having the gang together again next month,” Medina replied.

“I certainly will! You be safe now, and I’ll see you then,”

The two of them signed off and then Ezra switched the channel to a Classical Music station for him to listen to while he read.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley dug at the ground with his bare hands, his fingers scooping away fistful after fistful of earth. Every so often he’d uncover a plant root or a blue flower and toss them over his shoulder.

“I can  _ feel  _ you staring, Edward,” he snarled. Behind him, a skull sat atop a mound of other bones, watching him with sightless eyes. “I don’t want  _ any  _ of your attitude! This is better than they deserved. Better than anything  _ you  _ would have given.  _ You  _ would have just chucked them into the sea and been done with it.”

The skull, of course, remained silent. 

When the grave was deep and wide enough (though it was really more of a shallow ditch) Crowley’s tail pushed the bones - and jeering skull - into the hole with a hollow rattle. He cleared his throat, folded his hands, and bowed his head solemnly. 

“ _ I therefore commit these bodies to the ground, earth to earth, _

_ To be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body, _

_ (when the land and sea shall give up its dead), and the light of the world to come, _

_ Through our Lord Jesus Christ, who at his coming shall change our vile Body, _

_ That it may be like his glorious Body, according to the mighty working, _

_ Whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself. Amen.” _

Crowley strained himself out and began tossing dirt to cover the bones.

“Still don’t know why you made me memorize that whole mess,” he muttered. “‘S not like we served Her Majesty anymore…”

Soon the only sounds to be heard were the soft thudding of soil against bone.

As of one month ago, Crowley had started coming back to “This Place” not to brood as he usually did, but to rebuild. Anytime the burden of his sins became too great, he would dig a small hole and bury the bones scattered throughout the clearing like so much detritus. 

It was cathartic, he felt. None of the people left there deserved a proper burial, in his opinion, but it was more for him, as a way of letting go of the past.

Starting over.

Building new memories.

Crowley had just finished placing the last layer of gravedirt when he noticed that a shattered femur still stuck out of the hole, it’s sharp tip pointed towards the sky as if to spear at the very heart of Heaven. The redhead groaned and grabbed the hilt to try and push it under the soil. His hand, slick with damp earth, however, slipped and the jagged point slashed into his palm, opening a diagonal slice across it.

Crowley clutched at his injured hand with a snarl and lashed out with his tail which smashed the bone to bits. He could feel the blood dripping down his wrist. He clenched his hand experimentally to assess the damage and was relieved to find he still had full motor usage and control. Apart from the skin, nothing too vital (like tendons!) had been severed.

“Bastards still try to attack me, even in death,” he groused.

He slithered back towards the nest, trying to figure out how he was going to explain this newest injury to Ezra…

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra closed his book and turned off the radio when he heard the heavy drag of his mate’s scaly tail over the stone floor of their cave.

“Ungrateful little… burnssss like Hell…”

“Dearest? Are you alright?”

The angry grumbling stopped for a moment, then Crowley rounded the corner, holding his left hand close to his chest.

“Uh. Mosssstly. Got a little hurt is all. I’m fine,” he said.

“What?!”

Ezra sprang out of their “bed” and gently took Crowley’s injured hand in his. The gash was caked with dark blood and flecks of dirt, the skin around it already an angry red. “Goodness, Crowley! That looks  _ awful _ ! We need to get it cleaned right away before infection sets in! Come here, right now!”

Ezra urgently tugged his mate out of the nest and down the tunnel to the Salvage Room whereupon the human began rifling through a duffle bag of medical supplies that Anathema had given them before returning home the previous year.

_ “We brought a few things on our ‘rescue mission’ because we thought we’d need them. You two should have them, instead,” _ she had said. “ _ You don’t exactly have access to proper medical care, and plant paste will only take you so far.” _

Now, picking out a tube of antiseptic, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a roll of gauze, Ezra had never been more grateful for his oldest friend’s foresight. 

“Angel, I’m  _ fine _ ,” Crowley muttered.

“Don’t start that whole ‘tough guy’ nonsense! I won’t risk your hand rotting off!” Ezra huffed, a little disgruntled.

“I  _ already  _ washed it out at the rock pool,” the redhead griped, visibly frustrated by what he perceived to be unnecessary fussing.

“Then consider this just extra care,” Ezra responded quickly and pressed a kiss to his mate’s inner wrist. “Though… the alcohol might sting a bit.”

He ripped away a chunk of gauze, placed it over the open bottle of alcohol, and tipped it slightly to wet the cloth. When he started gently dabbing it onto the cut, Crowley hissed loudly and tears sprang to his eyes.

“That fucking  _ hurtsssss!” _

“I know it does, my love, I  _ know _ . Deep breaths, I’m almost done,”

Once Ezra was satisfied that the wound was sanitized enough, he spread the antiseptic gel over the cut and then bandaged it tightly. Crowley wiggled his fingers, thankful that the worst of the pain was gone.

“Thanks, angel. That actually  _ does  _ help,” he said.

“Anytime, my love,” Ezra smiled at him. “Now would you be so kind as to tell me how you ended up hurt in the first place?”

“Hnng… I was out getting ingredients and ended up slicing myself on a sharp rock,” Crowley lied smoothly, having perfected his cover story on the way home.

“Oh, poor thing,” Ezra cooed and kissed the injured hand. The warm gesture had Crowley blushing, but he was quick to pretend that it hadn’t affected him at all. “How about we go relax together in our nest and I tell you a new story? I haven’t done that in a while!”

Crowley’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Sounds wonderful, angel. Which one will you be telling today?”

The two of them strolled back to the nest.

“It’s another favorite of mine, ‘ _ Beauty and the Beast _ ’,” Ezra answered.

Crowley made an interested noise. “Never heard that one before.”

“Surely not!” Ezra gasped, horrified. “Why, it’s a staple of fairytales!”

“Never really enjoyed those kinds of stories before,” Crowley said as the two of them settled down amongst the cushions.

“Well, I shall simply have to educate you on the merits of Barbot de Villeneuve. Get comfortable, darling,”

The naga did so, helping himself to his  _ favorite  _ spot (which was his tail curled around his mate’s legs and his head rested on his chest).

“I’m ready for your  _ masterful  _ storytelling,” Crowley declared, quite comfortable, and Ezra preened at the compliment.

“Very well, darling. This story was first written in 1740 and, presumably, takes place around the same time. Or maybe earlier. Barbot de Villeneuve was never quite clear about it,” Crowley snickered at the look of concentration on Ezra’s face, who then continued, “The story begins with a wealthy, widowed merchant and his six sons and six daughters all living together in a sprawling manor.”

“ _ Twelve  _ children?!” Crowley sputtered. “That merchant couldn’t keep his hands off his wife, could he?”

“Well,  _ I  _ happen to know of a tricky little snake-man who managed to convince my friends that he and his mate produced  _ five  _ of them at once,” Ezra pointed out and Crowley fell silent. “Anywho, the merchant is very wealthy and successful. But one day, his merchant fleet sinks in a tempest and he is left destitute. He and his children are forced to live in a small forest cottage and live off the land instead.”

“That’s the problem with those ‘rich’ types: always complaining about having to make an honest living,” Crowley muttered angrily.

“Indeed. The merchant keeps his spirits up through it all; after all, he’d come from nothing before and he could do it again. His children, however, are  _ quite  _ upset, save for one daughter named Beauty,”

“Is this like the story of Cupid and Psyche where Beauty’s only notable quality is her appearance?” 

“No, actually. Beauty was not only lovely to look at, but kind, well-read, and cheerful,”

Crowley threw up an arm. “ _ Thank you,  _ Barbot de Whatever!”

Ezra chuckled. “Well, the author  _ was  _ a woman. It stands to reason that she’d have a better grasp of female characterization than her male contemporaries.”

The naga nodded smartly and gestured for Ezra to continue.

“One day, the father receives word that one of his fleet’s ships survived the storm and he had a chance to rebuild his wealth. He goes to ride out to port to greet it, and asks his children if they wanted any gifts upon his return. Beauty’s siblings all ask for lavish clothes and jewels, but  _ she  _ only wished for her father’s safe return, as it would be a long journey,”

Crowley patted Ezra’s chest with an appreciative, “ _ That’s  _ a kid who knows what matters most.”

His eyes crinkled fondly at the corners and Ezra could do nothing else but press a tender kiss to his forehead. “I wholeheartedly agree, my darling. Family means everything to me, whether it be blood or by choice. I’m glad I got to call  _ you  _ my family.”

“Hey! Don’t forget about Raphael and Rose Junior and… whoever the rest were!” Crowley gasped in mock outrage.

Ezra snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re still caught up on that silly little prank?”

The naga hid his blushing face behind his own hair.

“Maybe… Raphael’s still a nice name…” he mumbled.

Ezra’s heart softened even further at his sweet, sentimental mate.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispered. “The merchant, being the gift-giving man that he is, insists that Beauty ask for a gift like all her siblings. Beauty complies, and tells him that she would only want a single rose, as they did not grow in the forest where they lived.”

“Do  _ you  _ want a rose, angel?” Crowley asked suddenly. “They don’t grow here, but I mean… I’d get you one if I could.”

“Oh,  _ my darling _ ,” Ezra breathed. “I want  _ nothing _ more than your company.” Saying so, he pressed another kiss to the top of the naga’s head, who went lax in his hold. “As I was saying, the merchant rides out to begin rebuilding his wealth, but is devastated to find that, while the ship survived, none of the cargo it beared did. Heartbroken, he returns home to deliver the bad news to his children, but ends up getting lost. In the dark, he stumbles upon an abandoned castle and takes shelter inside for the night.”

“Is that a thing where you come from?” Crowley asked. “Empty castles in the middle of nowhere that people just  _ happen  _ to stumble across?”

“It  _ does  _ seem to be a rather common occurrence, doesn’t it?” Ezra, however, just shrugged and chalked it up to ineffability. “Either way, the merchant stays the night and prepares to leave the next morning. Right as he does so, however, he spots a rose bush growing along the castle wall. Feeling that at least he’d be able to bring  _ Beauty  _ a gift, he plucks one of the flowers. As soon as he does so, however, a  _ frightening  _ Beast comes charging out of the castle, screaming at him and calling him a thief!”

“I’m not sure who to root for, here,” Crowley mused as he scratched at his head. “On the one hand, I’d be pretty pissed too if someone stole from my garden. But then again, the poor human didn’t  _ know  _ the place was inhabited. You’d think the Beast would have put up a sign or something. Or at least let the merchant know he was there-”

“All hypothetical signs aside…” interrupted Ezra. “The merchant begs for his life, explaining that he had only taken a rose to bring back as a gift for his daughter. The Beast allows him to live, on the condition that the merchant offer up one of his children instead as payment for the theft of the flower. The merchant, reluctantly, agrees.”

“ _ Bloody Hell!  _ What is with  _ all  _ these terrible parents?!” Crowley practically shrieked.

Ezra ignored his outburst and continued. “When the merchant arrives home, he explains what happened to him. None of his other children volunteer to sacrifice themselves, save for Beauty. She feels it is her duty and responsibility, as it was  _ her  _ rose that started this whole mess. With a heavy heart, she bids her family farewell and travels to the Beast’s castle. Upon arrival, however, she is greeted with a grand celebration and given everything she could ever want. The Beast is kind to her, and they have frequent lengthy conversations, even if he  _ is  _ a little on the less intelligent side.”

“That reminds me, Anathema mentioned something to me some time ago called a ‘Himbo’. What  _ is  _ that?”

“It’s a big, kind, stupid man,” Ezra replied without missing a beat and Crowley muttered something under his breath that sounded like an astonished, “ _ Gabriel!” _

“The Beast never harms Beauty  _ or  _ pressures her into marrying him, despite his clear romantic interest in her,” the blonde twirled a lock of his mate’s hair around his finger. “Sounds a bit like some  _ gorgeous _ ,  _ wonderful  _ man I know.”

“It’s Medina, right?”

Ezra rolled his eyes and shoved Crowley playfully off of him who laughed and scrambled back into his earlier spot.

“Your sparkling humor is matched only by your sharp wit, my darling. Over time, Beauty and the Beast become dear friends, but she soon longs to return home to see her family. She asks the Beast if she may go visit them and he agrees on the condition that she return in 60 days. Beauty swears to return to her friend and he gives her an enchanted ring that will return her instantly to his side whenever she chooses to do so. The next day, she returns home and her family is overjoyed to see her. The 60 days pass by as if in a blissful dream, and on the final day, Beauty makes to return to the Beast, but her family begs her to stay just a  _ little  _ bit longer. Thinking that there is surely no harm in doing so, Beauty stays with them for a few more days,”

“Ooohhhh that’s not good…” Crowley intoned with a shake of his head. “What happened? Was the Beast angry that his trust was broken?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Ezra said sadly. “After the 60th day, when Beauty didn’t return, the Beast is convinced that she had abandoned him and begins to die of a broken heart.”

Crowley and Ezra fell silent. The parallels between  _ their  _ story and the fictional one were not lost on either of them. Almost simultaneously, they moved to share a desperate embrace.

“Don’t ever leave me…” Crowley whimpered between frantic kisses.

“ _ Never _ , my beloved.  _ Never _ ! Don’t  _ you  _ ever leave  _ me  _ either or I’ll- I’ll- I’ll never talk to you again!” vowed Ezra.

The redhead snickered, then outright laughed, the somber mood already forgotten in the wake of his mate’s silly threat. Ezra pouted for a moment, then soon joined in, letting Crowley hold him close as they both shook with mirth.

“So… what happened next?” Crowley giggled, forcing himself back to normal.

“Well, in the middle of the night, Beauty is granted a vision of her friend dying alone and she is distraught. She bids her family a hasty goodbye, then uses the ring to instantly teleport to the Beast’s side, realizing almost too late that she loves him. She cradles him in her arms and confesses her love for him, which restores him to life. Not only does it heal him, however, it also breaks the curse that was placed upon him!”

Ezra glanced up at Crowley, expecting to find him happy at the young lovers being reunited, but his face was thunderous. The naga’s eyes were flickering orange, with his lips pulled up in a sneer. His arms tightened subconsciously around Ezra.

“ _ Bullshit _ ,” he hissed. “When hasssss  _ love  _ ever broken a curse?”

“D-darling?” Ezra choked. “You’re… you’re squeezing me a little too tight…”

Crowley blinked, and his eyes were once again gold. “Ssssssorry, angel.”

Ezra patted the redhead’s arm gently.

“Is this one of those things you want to talk about?” he asked softly.

Crowley shook his head.

“No, angel, it’sssss… just please finish the story,”

“Anything for you, my love,” Ezra twisted around in his mate’s hold so that his back was pressed against Crowley’s front as the two of them laid on their sides. “As it turns out, the Beast is actually a prince! He explains to Beauty that his father died when he was but an infant and his mother left him in the care of a nanny while she rode off to war with the country who had her husband assassinated. The nanny, however, was an evil witch in disguise who attempted to seduce him once he became an adult so she could take over the kingdom. When he rejected her advances, she cursed him to look like a monster. Only true love could return him to his human form.”

Crowley made a sour, horrified face. “Poor kid! He was raised without parents, then became a victim of grooming and was cursed when he stood up for himself! I’m glad he got a happy ending.”

“Me too, dearest, me too. After Beauty’s confession, she and the Prince are married in a lavish, joyous celebration! He’s even reunited with his mother, who had thought her son long dead, and Beauty’s family is restored to their wealth and status, even though they might not have been quite so deserving of it,”

Crowley nodded his head once in agreement. 

“After that, Beauty and her Prince lived happily ever after for the rest of their days. The End,”

The redhead gave a polite round of applause, though his thoughts seemed far away. Ezra watched with unmasked concern. “Darling, come back to me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

In the last year, “ _ Come back to me. Don’t go where I can’t follow _ .” had become a sort of “Mental Health Safe Word”. Any time Ezra used it, it would be to remind Crowley that his mind was drifting, oftentimes unbidden, to dark places and to try and make the conscious effort to return his thinking to safer territory. It had always, without fail, worked to bring Crowley back from wherever his more painful memories took him.

Ezra was prepared for a bit of a fight to get his mate back to stability, but Crowley just shook his head with a tender smile. 

“No, no, angel. I’m fine, actually. Really, I am,” the redhead fiddled nervously with the frayed edge of the bandage around his palm. “I was just wondering… what do you think Beauty and her Beast’s wedding was like?”

Ezra blinked in momentary surprise. “Well, I’d imagine it was a lavish affair. Lots of dancing and music and food and probably quite a number of guests. Why do you ask?”

“I just… I was just curious. Would  _ you  _ have wanted that kind of wedding if you were in Beauty’s place?” Crowley asked nervously.

The blonde had to take a moment to think about that.

“In all honesty, probably not,” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’d want something smaller, more private, with only my closest friends and family. I’d ask Gabriel to give me away, of course, and Ana would be my Maid of Honor. I’d have preferred something outdoors, maybe on a beach or a beautiful field or something equally as romantic. There would be lots of flowers and beautiful music. Everyone would dance and then we’d have the most  _ scrumptious  _ cake!”

Crowley, with a love-drunk smile, listened happily to his mate rhapsodize about his ideal wedding. Once Ezra realized he’d started waxing poetic about what kind of suit he would wear, he turned a rosy pink. “A-anyway,  _ that  _ would be the kind of wedding I’d prefer.”

“You really have it all figured out, don’t you?” Crowley sighed dreamily.

“Of course! I’d always wished to have a beautiful, if private, ceremony with the man of my dreams,” Ezra rolled over to face Crowley and his fingers stroked the side of the naga’s face. “However, being mated to  _ you _ , the man of not only my dreams but also my hopes and fantasies, is even better. I  _ never  _ thought I would be so lucky.”

Crowley pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes, savoring the closeness. “Nah.  _ I’m  _ the lucky one. I don’t deserve  _ half  _ of what you give me, but I won’t question it. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, dearest; More than  _ anything _ ,”

Ezra took his mate’s face in his hands and the two of them shared a soft, slow kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beast in the original "Beauty and the Beast" was ABSOLUTELY a Himbo (He's LITERALLY described in-text as being, "More prone to stupidity than savagery").
> 
> Also, Crowley's prayer IS a real prayer. I can't tell you where it's from, but if you know DO know where it's from, it gives another hint to the truth of his past ;3


	25. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets sick and Ezra has a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mild descriptions of infected injuries.

Crowley, when he slept, was practically immobile. Like a true snake, he would curl up around Ezra and be little more than an unmoving lump until he finally decided to grace the waking world with his presence.

That’s why feeling him twitch and spasm in his sleep was so unusual to Ezra.

The blonde was the first to awake the next morning, to find Crowley practically convulsing where he lay, hands closing fitfully around nothing and gritting his teeth. He looked like he was in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare. When Ezra reached over to nudge him awake, however, he jerked his hand away.

Crowley’s skin felt like _fire!_

Only then did he notice the beads of sweat clinging to his mate’s forehead and the goosebumps that prickled up and down his tanned arms. Crowley’s breathless whimper goaded him into acting.

“Crowley! Wake up! What’s going on?” Ezra jostled his shoulder.

The redhead didn’t open his eyes for a moment, but when he did they were glazed over with some kind of whitish film. He blinked slowly as his face crumpled in confusion.

“A-angel? Where… I can’t sssssee you…” he mumbled and reached out a clammy, trembling hand.

When Ezra immediately took it, Crowley exhaled in relief through dry, cracked lips.

“Crowley, dearest, what’s wrong with you?” Ezra asked, riveted with terror at the sight of near-blind eyes.

Crowley looked lost.

“Don’t… don’t feel good…” he said.

A thought occurred to Ezra and he ordered Crowley to give him his injured hand. He peeled away the gauze and gagged at what he found. 

The wound was a bright, ugly red with tendrils of inflammation branching out across the unmarked skin like cracks in a window pane. Yellow-colored pus had practically soaked all the way through the bandage.

“Oh, Crowley!” Ezra gasped. “This is _so_ infected!”

Crowley’s unseeing eyes rolled upwards and his mouth dropped open as he mumbled, “Explainssss a lot…”

Ezra started trembling even worse than Crowley was. The redhead’s temperature had to have been _at least_ 38°C! Any higher and he’d risk brain death! Antibiotics were what was needed, but there hadn’t been any inside the medical supplies Anathema had gifted them! There were plenty of anti inflammatories, which would help in reducing his fever to a manageable level, but they’d only be treating the symptoms, rather than the cause!

_Help! I need to contact help!_

Ezra seized his mate’s uninjured hand. “Darling, can you hear me?” Crowley’s eyes swivelled for a second before they fixed in the direction he heard Ezra’s voice come from and he nodded weakly. “I’m going to call Anathema and see if she can talk me through taking care of you, alright?”

Crowley swallowed and nodded again. When Ezra relinquished his hand, the redhead feebly groped for it again, then remembered that his mate wasn’t leaving and let it fall to the blankets.

The blonde quickly began fiddling with the knobs and dials on the radio to tune into Anathema’s frequency.

_Please…_ please _answer…_

After a few tense moments, the static broke and Anathema’s voice could be heard over from the speakers.

“Ez?” she answered worriedly. “You’re calling earlier than usual. Is everything okay?” Ezra opened his mouth to explain the situation, but a low groan came spilling out from between Crowley’s lips. “Is that Crowley making that noise? What’s happened? Ez?!”

“He…” Ezra took a second to find the right words as tears sprang to his eyes. “...He cut his palm on a rock yesterday and it’s gotten pretty infected despite my best efforts at cleaning it out. He’s… he’s in a bad way, Ana.”

He heard a muffled curse from the other end of the line before his friend spoke up again. “Alright, Ez, what are his symptoms?”

“Ah, he’s got a high fever, chills, and his eyes have gone cloudy. He’s also sluggish and a bit disoriented,”

“Yeah, that sounds like a pretty sick snake,”

“Oh what should I _do,_ Anathema?! I can’t… I can’t lose him!” Ezra sobbed.

He would have started hyperventilating had his best friend not snapped at him to take a breath.

“Ez! Listen to me! I can walk you through getting him taken care of but I _need you to calm down_!” she stressed.

Ezra swallowed and nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him and replied, “Al- alright. I’ll calm down. What should I do first?”

“First things first, you need to get his wound cleaned out. Warm salt water will help - _not_ ocean water! - but seeing as you don’t have any salt or a way of safely boiling it, just freshwater and soap will have to do. Do you have a way of carrying it back to the nest from the rockpool?”

Ezra’s eyes darted around as he tried to recall if he had any type of storage container, remembered how he’d been too lazy to throw out some empty coconut shells from breakfast yesterday, then jumped up.

“Yes! I do! I’m going to go get the water now! I’ll sign off for a bit while I do this, but _please_ stay close by!” he begged Anathema.

“I will. I promise. Now get going!”

Anathema’s call cut off and Ezra quickly kneeled down beside his ill love.

“Crowley?” He whispered with a forced smile. 

He ran his hands through Crowley’s sweat-drenched hair until the other’s eyes opened again. “A-angel?”

“I’m here, darling, I’m here,” Ezra leaned over and pressed a kiss to the feverish brow which was blotchy red in some places, but deathly pale in others. “I’m going to get some water to start cleaning out your wound. You stay right here and try to relax. I won’t be gone long.”

Crowley’s breathing became rapid and shallow, his chest spasming in panic.

“Angel I- I can’t- where- can’t ssssee…” he mumbled.

“I’m here, darling! I’m here!”

Ezra squeezed Crowley’s good hand as hard as he could and was rewarded with a relieved smile, even as weak as it was.

“There you are…”

“Crowley, listen, I’m going to get some water for you. I’ll be back _as soon as I can_ , alright?” Ezra swallowed and guided his mate’s hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it.

“Al… alright… jusssst come back soon. Can’t see…”

“I _promise_ ,”

With one more parting kiss, Ezra was gone. He didn’t hear Crowley’s whimper of, “Angel? Where’d you go? Angel…?”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra power-walked back to the cave, arms balancing several coconut shells filled with fresh water as if they were teacups.

_Never thought I’d be grateful for those days spent waiting tables in college…_

When he entered the cavern, he was startled by the sounds of ragged wails coming from the direction of the nest. He almost dropped the water in his haste to get there.

“Crowley! _Crowley!_ I’m coming! What’s wrong?” he shouted as he _somehow_ managed to pick up his pace without spilling his precious cargo.

He came around the corner into their nest to find Crowley lying on his side on the floor instead of their “bed”, tail bunched up and his arms wrapped around his torso as if trying to get warm. His rheumy eyes kept darting around and his face was covered in tears and spit. He was sobbing wildly, gasping for breath.

“ _Angel! Angel!!_ P-pleasssse- come back! I can’t… I can’t find you! Where’d you- don’t leave me! _Please!_ Where are you?!” he kept shrieking.

Ezra set down the water as quickly and as carefully as he could before rushing to his mate’s side to gather him up in his arms.

“Ssh, ssh, darling. I’m here. I left to get water, remember? I’m here. I’m here,” he whispered, rocking them back and forth.

Crowley’s weeping slowed. Blinking sluggishly he replied, “Right… water. I… I remember now. Sssssorry…”

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. You’re just disoriented a bit is all,” Ezra was loath to do so, but Crowley was too weak to stand so he started dragging him under the arms back to their bed. “Come here now. I’ve got everything we need to wash out that nasty pus.”

The redhead was completely limp as Ezra laid him back down into the softness and security of their nest cushions.

“Yer not gonna usssse the alcohol again, are you?” Crowley sighed.

“No, darling, just soap and water. Though it still might hurt a bit,” Ezra replied.

Crowley tried to groan, but it came out sounding like more of a whine. The blonde scampered off to the Salvage Room to retrieve their duffel bag of supplies, making sure to _sprint_ the rest of the way back in case Crowley had another panic attack at the seperation. Ezra was thankful to find him where he’d been left, eyes closed almost peacefully.

“I’m back, darling!” he called to make sure he was heard.

Crowley opened one eye and smiled lightly. “I know, angel. I remembered.”

From within the duffel bag, the blonde produced more gauze. Before he began treating, however, he made sure to wipe his hands down with the rubbing alcohol, then rinse off the worst of it with a bit of water.

“Are you ready, dearest?” he asked, drying his hands on a corner of gauze, which he promptly discarded afterwards.

“Ready assss I’ll ever be,” Crowley groused.

Ezra nodded sharply, then wet a corner of cloth, lavered it up with soap taken from the rockpool, and methodically began wiping away the pus and dried blood. Crowley hissed and snarled and thrashed weakly, but kept his palm open and still for his angel to work.

“You’re doing so well, my love. So beautifully. It’s almost over,” Ezra soothed.

“Thank _Somebody!”_

Finally, after several agonizing minutes, the pus was completely cleared away, revealing the shiny red wound underneath. Ezra had to admit, it already looked a bit better after a thorough cleaning.

“The hard part’s over, my love,” he said softly, and cast aside the soiled gauze. “I’m going to let it air dry for a bit, then add more ointment and bandages.”

“M’kay,” Crowley replied, letting his facial muscles relax from their previous grimace of pain. “Will you hold me for a bit? It’ssssss so _cold_!”

“Of course, darling. It’s the fever that’s making you feel like this, I’m afraid,”

Ezra crawled through their nest until he had Crowley nestled into the crook of his arm with a blanket spread across the both of them.

“Sssssso much better…” Crowley sighed happily.

He was still covered in goosebumps, but his shivering had gone down a little. Once Ezra felt enough time had passed, he scooted out from under the blanket but made sure to tuck his mate in thoroughly as he did so. Afterwards, he coated the gash in more antiseptic ointment and bandaged it once again. 

“Alright, love, I’m going to call Ana again and ask her what to do next,” he said quietly.

Crowley’s eyes were closed, with the blankets tucked up to his chin. He mumbled his acknowledgement and Ezra contacted Anathema, who answered right away.

“How did the cleaning go, Ez?” she asked. “Everything went alright?”

“Yes, Ana dear, thank you. What should I do next?”

From over the radio, Ezra could hear his best friend make a noise of consideration. “Commercial antibiotics like cephalexin or tobramycin would be best, but I suppose we could make do with an unrefined bit of penicillin. It’s very common, and has several different strains.”

“Isn’t that the one made from mold?”

“Mold?!”

Crowley had, apparently, been eavesdropping (unsurprising, considering the radio was inside the nest and Ezra hadn’t exactly been trying to be quiet). Ezra and Anathema both heaved a sigh at the redhead’s shocked outburst.

“Yes, Crowley, _mold_ ,” Anathema huffed. “Mold has been used as medicine for _centuries_!”

“But it grows on _bread_ , doesn’t it?” Ezra fretted. “I don’t exactly have that in supply here!”

“It also grows on expired fruit,” the occultist explained, and Ezra’s face lit up in realization.

“Oh! Oh, yes! There’s quite a bit of fruit here! I can just go gather some that’s been sitting on the ground for a bit!” he rejoiced. “Although… do I feed the mold to Crowley or just rub it in his wounds?”

The naga let out a disgusted, strangled croak at his two choices.

“I’m not quite sure,” Anathema admitted. “But doing both wouldn’t hurt, so long as it gets into his body _somehow_. I personally think oral administration is best.”

“Alright. I’ll get started right away. Any other advice you can give me?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah. Make sure he takes only a pinch every eight hours for _at least_ ten days! _Don’t_ let him stop, no matter how much he bitches!”

Crowley lifted his head with a hoarse, “ _Hey!”_

“Also keep him hydrated and administer the medicine on an empty stomach,”

“That last part shouldn’t be too hard. He hardly eats on a _good_ day,” Ezra chuckled nervously. He felt _much_ calmer now that he had a “game plan” as Gabriel would have called it, but he didn’t relish what the next ten days would bring.

“Tell that to those poor seagulls,” Anathema snarked and Ezra could practically _hear_ her rolling her eyes. “Anywho, that should be the gist of it: rest, medicine, and water. I’ll stay by my radio as often as I can for the next 10 days in case you need anymore help.”

“Thank you _so much_ , Ana. Do tell Newt I said ‘hello’, would you?”

Anathema promised to do so, and bid him goodbye. As soon as she was gone, Ezra came over and kneeled at Crowley’s side. “Darling, I know you don’t want to be alone right now, but I have to go find some moldy fruit - as counterintuitive as that sounds. Do you think you’ll be okay while I’m gone? I was thinking of heading to the orange grove and gathering some of the fallen ones so that I don’t have to go far.”

Crowley turned his unfocused gaze to his mate’s voice.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay. I’ll try to remember where… where you went thissss time. Come back soon. The fever makes it… hard to remember,”

Ezra gave a wobbly smile that he knew the other couldn’t see, and kissed his forehead.

*~*~*~*~*

He returned a little while later with his shirt (currently being used as a basket) laden down with moldy oranges, each one covered in a layer of blue fuzz. The sight and smell was repulsive, and Ezra was certain that his shirt would be ruined from the rotting juice soaking through it, but it was all a small price to pay for Crowley’s continued health.

Back in the nest, he found Crowley sitting upright and turning his head this way and that with a dazed expression on his face, like he was struggling to hang onto a memory.

“I’m back, darling! I have your mol- er- medicine!” Ezra called as cheerfully as he could.

Crowley’s shoulders sagged in visible relief. “ _Angel!_ You were gone and I thought… but I remembered!” he slurred proudly through the haze of sickness.

“Excellent job, my love! Thank you for being so patient with me!,” Ezra pinched off a piece of blue-green mold between his fingers. “Now, would you prefer I mix this in with some water and you drink it, or would you rather just take it as is?”

Crowley’s eyes blinked out of sync for a moment before he held out a hand, “As issss, please.”

Ezra handed him the little tuft and the naga didn’t hesitate to pop it into his mouth and swallow. Immediately after, however, he started gagging and Ezra swiftly handed him a shell of water. Crowley chugged it all in one go, then stuck out his forked tongue with a “blaaaahhhh” noise.

“You poor thing. Was it really so bad?” Ezra asked, wringing his hands.

“Tasssstes like wet _dirt_ ,” Crowley flopped backwards and held out his arms. “Come to bed, angel. ‘M cold…”

“Of course, dearest,”

Ezra laid down beside his mate, taking the time to bundle the both of them up in as many blankets as he possibly could. He knew he was in for a hot, sweaty time (and _not_ the fun kind) judging by how much heat Crowley’s body was radiating, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

His mate needed him.

Crowley shimmied side to side for a moment to burrow deeper into the nest, pulling Ezra flush against him as he did so.

“You know what makes _me_ feel better when _I’m_ sick?” Ezra began. “A song. My mother used to sing for Gabriel and I all the time when we felt ill.”

“Whudvyagot?” Crowley’s reply was muffled against his mate’s shoulder, but Ezra understood it well enough.

The blonde remembered a _lovely_ little lullaby from a movie that he and Anathema had rented a few years ago (and subsequently broke down several times throughout its runtime). Then he cleared his throat and started to sing.

“ _Hush now, mo stórín.[1] _

_Close your eyes and sleep._

_Waltzing the waves,_

_Diving the deep._

_Stars are shining bright._

_The wind is on the rise,_

_Whispering words_

_Of long-lost lullabies._

_Oh won’t you come with me,_

_Where the moon is made of gold?_

_And in the morning sun,_

_We’ll be sailing._

_Oh won’t you come with me,_

_Where the ocean meets the sky?_

_And as the clouds roll by,_

_We’ll sing the song of the sea…”_

“Mmm… sssssailing. I miss it...” mumbled Crowley, then dropped off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

_The sounds of cannon fire._

_A booming laugh echoing over the waves._

_Cries and pleas for mercy from men, women, and children._

_Jeering taunts and cackles._

_The sound of a single pistol shot._

_The feel of warm blood on his face._

_Deafening silence, followed immediately by outraged cries._

_An argument._

_The feel of paper and wood beneath his fingers._

_The ocean spray and the rocking of the waves._

_Begging._

_Begging._

_So much begging._

_Then screaming._

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley shivered the entire time he was asleep. It was all Ezra could do to hold him close in the hopes of transferring some of his own body heat and count down the hours until he could give Crowley his next dose of medicine. He was about to turn on the radio to listen to a station and check the time, when his mate started making noise.

“N-no… ssssstop…”

“Darling, wake up. You’re having a nightmare,” Ezra whispered, rubbing the other’s shoulders in a comforting gesture.

“L-let… let’m go… basssssstards…”

Crowley suddenly started thrashing hard enough to practically toss Ezra right out of their nest. The naga suddenly sat bolt upright with a shriek of, “ _NO!!”_

Some of the film had faded from his eyes, and Ezra could see the faint outline of his pupils blown wide with fear. The naga’s air was coming in and out of his lungs at such a speed that Ezra was genuinely wondering if his body even had time to absorb it before it was being pushed out again. He reached out to try and embrace his love.

“Ssh, ssh, my darling. It’s alright. It was just a dream…” he cooed.

Crowley, however, didn’t look at him or even acknowledge that he’d heard him. To Ezra’s mounting worry, he realized that Crowley was _awake_ but he wasn’t _present_.

“N-no… don’t- don’ go!” he babbled.

The blonde swallowed past the lump in his throat and scooted closer. “I’m here, my dearest, I’m here. I promise. I’m not going anywhere. Not until you’re better,” he paused. “Probably not even then.”

“Pleasssse, please, please, don’t- I’ll… anything! ‘M sorry!”

Crowley cried openly, mouth pulled back in a silent scream of terror. Ezra leaned fully against him.

“You didn’t do _anything_ wrong, my love,” he stressed. “You’re okay.”

“C-come back! Please! Come _back!_ Don’t… don’t _leave me_ -!”

“I’ll _never_ leave you-”

“ _Edward!_ Ed-! Don’t _leave me-_ ! No! _Edward!!”_

Ezra inhaled sharply and went stiff at the same time Crowley’s body went limp and pitched backwards. Ezra was too stunned to even catch him, but the pillows of their nest were loyal and did it for him.

Just as quickly as the hysterics began, they were over. 

Crowley was still shivering and sweaty, but he had fallen back into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

The same could not be said for Ezra.

He was hunched over, both hands clapped over his mouth and tears streaming down his cheeks as his entire body shook with tremors. His mind was racing too fast for him to focus on any one particular thought beyond the perpetual echoing chant of, “ _He lied. He lied. He lied.”_

_“Was he… was he a former mate of yours?”_

_“God, no! He was… well I guess you could say he was my best friend. We did_ everything _together.”_

**_He lied. He lied. He lied._ **

_“No. I’ve never had a mate before you.”_

**_He lied. He lied. He lied._ **

_“I’ve never been in love before I met you, either.”_

**_He lied. He lied. He lied._ **

Through the haze of betrayed shock, one thought sliced through all the others like a knife through air.

_Why?_

That thought began to grow, and Ezra seized onto it desperately.

_Why would Crowley lie to me? What could he have to gain from it?_

_That_ thought, in turn, branched off and Ezra began exploring the path it took.

_So what if he did? He wouldn’t fault_ me _for having exes, so why should_ I _hold it against him for the same?_

It wasn’t the thought of Crowley previously being in love with Edward that had Ezra’s stomach churning, however.

It was the realization that Crowley had _lied_ to him for the better part of a year that did it.

He felt his mind starting to drift back into “why” territory, but that way led to madness so he focused exclusively on what he _could_ do, and that was to take care of Crowley until he was recovered.

In the grand scheme of things, Ezra didn’t truly care that Edward had been a previous lover (though, the thought of him being Crowley’s previous _mate_ clenched painfully in his chest despite his more rational thoughts). 

It was the lie.

He reached over and gently tucked a strand of sweat-damp hair behind Crowley’s ear.

“I’m quite cross with you,” he whispered so as not to wake him. “But I still love you more than life itself. When you’re well, I’ll have _quite_ a few choice words for you. In the meantime, however…”

Ezra softly kissed his slack lips.

“...get better soon, my love.”

*~*~*~*~*

1Hush now, my darling.[return to text]

*~*~*~*~*

**Song Referenced in the Fic:**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note (Who is a Trained Medical Professional): While wild Penicillin might not do as much as its more refined contemporaries, traditional oral amoxicillin dosing is recommended at 250-500mg every eight hours for children, teenagers, and adults weighing over 40kg. 500mg is roughly 1/10 of a teaspoon.
> 
> Author's Note (Who is also a Trained VETERINARY Medical Professional): Symptoms of illness in snakes include discharge from eyes, ragged mouth-breathing, lethargy, and "star gazing" wherein the snake keeps looking up.


	26. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley recovers from his illness and Ezra confronts him with what he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of Implied/Referenced suicide at the end. It's all a silly misunderstanding, however, but be aware of it in case it's potentially triggering.

The next day saw some improvement in Crowley’s health. The naga was still feverish and prone to delirium every so often, but the infection had already lessened. When Ezra peeled back the gauze, he was pleased to find that the redness had gone down significantly and that the worst of the pus leakage was gone. 

He’d dosed Crowley with a few more pinches of mold, every eight hours as instructed, and even gave him a few tablets of acetaminophen from the duffel bag when his fever got too high (it had taken a bit of math to figure out the correct dosage, as Crowley’s tail  _ alone  _ weighed more than Ezra’s entire body).

All in all, the blonde was quite pleased with his mate’s healing progress, though he himself was already starting to feel the negative effects of a night with no sleep. He knew Crowley would scold him for staying up all night, were he lucid enough to do so, but Ezra had been so paranoid about missing a dose of antibiotic that he’d simply listened quietly to the radio and fought to keep his eyes open.

Crowley had slept peacefully through the entire night, but woke up in the morning with his eyes still clouded over (though  _ much less _ than previously) and his body drenched in sweat.

_ Oh… I’ll probably have to wash these blankets once he’s all better _ , Ezra thought, dabbing away a bit of moisture from the naga’s brow.

“My love, I’m going to the rockpool to get some more water. Will you be alright while I’m gone?” he asked.

Crowley swallowed and nodded weakly. “Yeah. ‘ll be fine. Come back sssssoon.”

“Of course, dearest,”

When Ezra returned, Crowley had fallen back asleep, clutching a pillow as if his life depended on it. Ezra debated whether or not he wanted to wake him up for a drink, but then remembered that his next dose would be in two hours so he let Crowley sleep since he could have some water then.

Ezra gently tugged the pillow away from Crowley who cried out weakly in his sleep and grabbed at it. The blonde quickly replaced the pillow with his own body and his mate’s fitful whimpers ceased. 

Crowley opened his eyes a crack. “W’lcome back, angel. Misssssed you.”

“Missed you too, darling. Get some rest and when you wake up I’ll have more medicine for you and we’ll see about eating some  _ non _ -moldy oranges. You need your Vitamin C!”

“Wan’ lemonssss. Lemons taste better,”

“I’ll get you some lemons, then,”

Crowley made a pleased little noise, then went back to sleep without further complaints.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Peace. _

_ The sounds of a storm, the cracking of wood, heavy footfalls on the sand, and voices speaking in frustrated Spanish. _

_ The feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. _

_ The sound of plants trembling in the wake of threatening hissing. _

_ The feel of his hands, dry and clean. _

_ Peace. _

_ The sight of figures moving in the distance, each one happily speaking French, and then later disappointment. _

_ The feel of his hands, dry and clean. _

_ Peace. _

_ Anger. So much anger. They hurt his sisters! The sounds of livestock lowing in distress and the texture of ruined plants. _

_ The feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. _

_ Disgust and  _ **_fury!_ ** _ The smell of smoke. Insane, Spanish babbling. _

_ The  _ **_wonderful_ ** _ feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. _

_ The smell of smoke. _

_ The feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. _

_ Impatience. Will they never learn? The sounds of livestock lowing in distress and the texture of ruined plants. _

_ The feel of his hands, dry and clean. _

_ Peace. _

**_Outrage! Injustice!_ ** _ Voices that spoke neither English nor French praying for rescue that came too late. _

_ The  _ **_beautiful_ ** _ feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. _

_ The pain of vicious blows and hateful screams in English.  _

_ The feel of blood on his hands. _

_ Peace. True, lasting peace. _

_ Love. _

_ So much love. _

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra gently shook Crowley’s shoulders at the two hour mark to wake him up.

“Come on, dearest. It’s time for more medicine,” he said softly.

Crowley’s eyes opened and Ezra’s had a brief moment of joy that the film was almost completely gone until his heart dropped to his stomach and then the floor beyond.

They were orange.

Ezra was  _ really  _ starting to hate that damnable color. 

Crowley’s face swivelled to look at him.

**_“Mate?”_ **

“”Y-yes, darling, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got some more medicine for you that you need to take,” Ezra stammered.

Crowley shook his head gravely.  **_“Do not need.”_ **

Ezra huffed. “Well,  _ as your mate _ , I insist that you do. I don’t know where you’ve gone this time, but I  _ won’t  _ have you skipping a dose just because you aren’t yourself.”

He reached over and picked up a piece of mold from the little pile he had set aside (he’d already gathered plenty and tossed out the oranges so they wouldn’t stink up the nest). He held it out. “Here. Just swallow it. It’s good for you.”

Crowley scrunched up his nose and turned away.

**_“No. Do not need. Rotten,”_ **

“Yes you  _ do _ !” stressed Ezra. “You take your medicine right now, mister!”

Crowley shook his head again.

_ Good Lord, it’s like trying to get a dog to take his Heartworm preventative! Will I have to wrap this in cheese?!  _

The cheese route was, obviously, out of the question, so Ezra resorted to what he did best when Crowley wouldn’t let him have his way.

He pouted.

He crossed his arms and jutted out his bottom lip slightly. 

“Oh, you’re such a  _ mean snake _ . I worked  _ so hard  _ to get this for you and you won’t take it,” he threw in a fake sniffle for good measure. “It’s okay, though. I mean… you obviously think all my care isn’t wanted so I guess I’ll just have to live with that…”

Crowley looked stricken as Ezra managed to squeeze out a single crocodile tear.

**_“N-no! Wanted! Care is wanted!”_ **

Crowley’s hand shot out, snatched up the strip of mold, and swallowed it all in one quick motion. He even choked out a brave,  **_“Tastes good…”_ ** as it went down.

Ezra stifled a laugh.

“You don’t have to pretend it tastes good,” he snickered.

Crowley made a relieved face.  **_“Tastes bad, then. Very bad.”_ **

“Thank you so much for taking it anyway, dearest,” Ezra sighed happily.

He lifted the back off his hand to Crowley’s brow to test his temperature. His fever was still present, but not high enough to warrant another dose of acetaminophen.

_ Thank goodness for that. I don’t think I can keep up this pantomime forever. Now I can focus on trying to get him back to normal. _

Ezra stood up and retrieved a shell of water for Crowley, who drank it eagerly to wash the taste of fungus out of his mouth.

“How are you feeling right now, my love?” the blonde asked.

**_“Bad,”_ **

“Ah. I suppose that  _ is  _ understandable,” Ezra fiddled with his shirt. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll be right as rain in another day or so. Your fever’s already gone down and your eyes are- er… well they’re not that runny anymore.” He scooted closer. “How are you feeling… emotionally? Did you have a bad dream?”

Crowley’s eyebrows crinkled downwards. He stared at his hands, turning them over as if he were looking for something. 

**_“Mmm. Bad,”_ ** he grunted. His eyes flickered gold and orange, like a strobe effect.  **_“Then good.”_ ** He lifted a toothy smile.

A thought came to Ezra. “Do you… want to talk about it? Tell me what it was about?”

Crowley shook his head again and Ezra deflated a little.

_ It was a bit of a longshot I suppose… serves me right for trying to pry. _

Crowley started dragging himself forward towards his mate, who stiffened.

_ Is he going to try and undress me? Like last time? _

Instead of that, Crowley simply threw himself bodily atop Ezra, who “oof”-ed from the sudden weight.

**_“Mate warm. Cold,”_ **

“Y-yes… ack… you’re quite warm, yourself,”

Crowley purred, dragging his face along Ezra’s chest and neck to leave his own scent behind. The human began rubbing the naga’s back, who went lax against his chest.

“Alright, Crowley, your nightmare is over. You can… you can come back to me now,”

Crowley didn’t say anything in favor of propping himself up to try and kiss his mate. Ezra stopped him with a hand to his bare chest. “ _ No _ , Crowley. If you want a kiss, you need to do it as  _ yourself _ .”

The naga’s pupils contracted to thin slits and, for a moment, Ezra worried if perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say. Crowley, however, closed his eyes in a grimace and, when he opened them again, they had returned to normal.

“Sssssorry, angel,” he hissed, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, dearest. You just had a bad dream and went a little funny for a bit. Nothing happened,” Ezra reassured him.

“Yeah I… I know. Thank you, angel. Can I have that kisssss now?”

The blonde giggled and leaned up to meet his mate’s mouth with his own.

*~*~*~*~*

It took Crowley three days for his fever to break and the infection to clear up. During that time, Ezra hardly slept or ate or drank. His entire world became wound cleaning and mold medicating. Thankfully there had been no repeat incidents of Crowley “reverting” or any more hallucinations, either.

On the fourth morning, while Crowley was asleep, Ezra had snuck out to surprise him with those lemons he had been wanting. When he came back, he found his mate sitting upright in their nest, looking good as new. His complexion had returned to its usual sun-kissed bronze tone instead of blotchy paleness, and his eyes shone clear and bright with not a spot of discharge to be had. He turned and smiled at Ezra, truly seeing him for the first time in several days.

“Angel!” he celebrated. “I’m feeling  _ so  _ much better!”

“Oh, darling! That’s wonderf-”

Just like that, Ezra’s willpower crumbled. 

He’d been running on less than twelve hours of sleep across four days, precious little food, and  _ sheer fucking tenacity  _ to see Crowley returned to health. Now that his mate was no longer in danger, Ezra’s body gave up. 

The lemons rolled from his slack hands and he crumpled to the floor. He would have cracked his head on the stone had Crowley not swooped in and caught him beforehand.

“Angel?  _ Angel!” _

Ezra’s head rolled to the side as little snores squeaked out from between parted lips. Crowley sighed and ran his bandaged hand through white curls. “You should have been taking care of yourself  _ too _ , you stubborn brat,” he smiled cheekily. “Suppose I’ll just have to hold you  _ extra  _ close so you don’t try and get up before you’re rested enough.  _ Such  _ a pity.”

Crowley picked Ezra up in a bridal carry and carried him back to their “bed”. Never one to resist an excuse to sleep for a little longer than was probably healthy, Crowley wound his tail around his sleeping mate, cradled him close to his chest, and joined him for a nice, long nap that, frankly, they’d both earned.

*~*~*~*~*

Later, after a  _ ten-hour  _ “nap” (Ezra had awoken quite disoriented with drool all the way up the side of his face and into his hair, making it stick up on one side) the two of them sat amongst the blankets and pillows of their nest, trading lemon wedges between themselves.

Watching Crowley bite into a sour slice without so much as a wince at the tartness, Ezra decided to confront him with what he knew.

Only, he wasn’t quite sure  _ how _ .

Ezra cleared his throat.

“Crowley, dearest, I…” The redhead arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue and Ezra stuttered out, “I… think you’ve been lying to me about… about Edward.”

Crowley didn’t move. He stared fixedly at the lemon in his hands. 

When he spoke, his voice was trying too hard to be casual. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s just that… well…” Ezra swallowed, praying that wasn’t about to make a colossal mistake. “You were saying some rather  _ odd  _ things the other day, when you were delirious.”

Crowley looked at him, then. Ezra was expecting to see anger in those eyes the same color as the fruit in their hands.

He was  _ not  _ prepared to see naked  _ terror. _

“W-what… what did I ssssay?” Crowley asked.

Ezra was briefly disoriented for a moment before he replied, “You… you were begging someone to not leave you, and that you would do anything to have them back. I thought maybe it was about  _ me _ until you screamed Edward’s name.”

Crowley scanned his face.

“Isssss… was that all I said?”

“Yes,”

The redhead’s entire demeanour suddenly changed, and he practically fell backwards in visible relief.

“Oh! That’s all it was?” he chuckled.

Ezra sputtered, trying to make sense of it all before practically shrieking, “‘That’s  _ all _ ’?! Crowley, you’ve been  _ lying to me  _ about Edward for a year and you just- just-  _ that’s all?!” _

“Wait, what?” Crowley’s face twisted in confusion. “How have I been lying?”

“About him being your  _ mate!  _ I don’t know why you decided to lie and tell me he wasn’t, but I don’t appreciate you doing so!”

The redhead made a series of inarticulate noises along “guh?”, “ngk”, and “bwah?”. Finally he settled on, “He wasn’t my mate. He was my  _ friend _ .”

“ _ How  _ can I believe you when you were  _ screaming  _ for him not to leave you?!” Frustrated tears had sprung to Ezra’s eyes and he was fighting valiantly to keep them where they belonged. “I don’t  _ care  _ that you two used to be together, I just want to know why you  _ lied _ !”

“I didn’t  _ lie _ !” Crowley shouted.

“Then  _ why  _ were you begging him not to leave? Why won’t you tell me the  _ truth _ ?” 

Ezra started to sag, the fight going out of him, but Crowley bellowed, “ _ Because he left me to die!” _

The last word echoed through the entire cave. The naga’s shoulders heaved, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Ezra could only gape in shock.

“He… he did  _ what _ ?” the blonde gasped.

“He left me to  _ die _ , angel!” Crowley sniffled, sinking down onto his tail. “I… I refused to kill for him so he abandoned me and fucked off to  _ who knows where _ ! But I was left… left behind…”

He buried his face in his hands as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Oh,  _ Crowley _ …” Ezra whispered. He crawled forward and took both of his mate’s hands in his and pulled them away, revealing eyes shimmering with agonized tears. “...I’m  _ so sorry. _ ”

“Why didn’t you  _ believe _ me? Why didn’t you  _ trust  _ me?” Crowley whimpered.

“I… I didn’t…” Ezra let his hands fall lamely to his lap and he looked down, ashamed. “What other conclusion could I have come to? There’s still  _ so much  _ I don’t know and I suppose… I suppose I just filled in the gaps with my own worst-case scenario. I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” snapped Crowley, though his voice sounded more petulant than angry.

Ezra’s lower lip quivered and he nodded. “I… I understand your pain. All I wanted was to know the truth,” he steeled his nerves, then lifted his determined gaze to meet the other’s. “And I  _ deserve  _ the truth. I shouldn’t have accused you of lying, yes, and I also shouldn’t have lost my temper. However, I  _ cannot  _ and  _ will not  _ be faulted for wanting answers from you.”

“‘Answers’? You don’t  _ deserve  _ answers! You don’t deserve  _ anything  _ from me!”

Crowley clapped a hand over his mouth, as if that would somehow steal the words back and Ezra sucked in a sharp breath. Before anything else could be said, the human’s face shuttered.

“No… I suppose I don’t,” he said quietly.

Crowley reached out a hand to him. “Angel, no that’s- that’s not what I  _ meant _ ! I just meant that… that no one’s  _ obligated  _ to tell anyone anything, that’s all!”

Ezra dodged his hand and stood up.

“You once told me that you didn’t want to talk about your past because I wouldn’t love you anymore if I knew. I swore to you I still would. I’ve seen you attack my friends and I still loved you. I’ve seen you swallow entire animals  _ whole _ and I still loved you. I’ve seen you sick, injured, angry, and  _ everything  _ in between and I  _ still  _ loved you. I asked you once ‘what more do I have to do to prove my love?’ and it seems I will never get an answer. But then again…” he shot a glare at Crowley who flinched under the force of it. “...I don’t deserve an answer, do I?” He turned away. “I’m  _ deeply  _ sorry for hurting you, Crowley. And I’m sorry for what Edward did as well. I hope, in time, you can one day forgive me.”

Ezra swept out of the cave, his face a mask of stone. He didn’t stop to look back, even when he heard Crowley begging for him to not leave so they could talk it out.

*~*~*~*~*

_ I fucked up. I fucked up so  _ bad!

Crowley paced back and forth in the nest, tugging on his hair.

_ Good going, dumbass! You could have just sat down and shut up! You could have just accepted his apology, but nooooo! _

He nibbled on a cuticle with one of his fangs.

_ Yeah, he made a mistake, but I made things  _ so  _ much worse! I told him he didn’t deserve anything! _

That though froze him in his tracks.

_ Oh, Somebody! I told him he didn’t deserve  _ anything  _ from me! Not my Mark, not my affection, not my  _ love…

_ Oh FUCK! _

Crowley was on the verge of a panic attack, but he knew that just racing gung-ho into the jungle in hot pursuit would just make things worse. Ezra needed time to calm down, so he’d be more receptive to an apology and Crowley needed time to come up with one that he  _ deserved. _

_ Because that’s it, isn’t it? He deserves  _ everything  _ I have to give, and I told him he didn’t. He loved me, cared for me, sacrificed  _ everything  _ for me and I ended up lashing out instead of accepting his apology and letting him know how much I appreciate him… _

Crowley’s eyes landed on a pile of books beside their bed and a memory swam to the surface. During his recovery, Ezra had read to him when he couldn’t sleep. All of the things he had read were stories of true love and happy endings. Stories where everything worked out, no matter how different the lovers were.

Ezra had remembered Crowley’s first nervous request for books centered around that theme, and had found as many as he could to read to his sick mate. Though he’d been mad with fever, Crowley could remember a soothing voice cutting through the scorching heat, promising him in words that weren’t his own that everything was going to be alright.

Crowley sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

He knew what he had to do to make things right.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra stood on the beach, water lapping at his ankles.

_ This is where it all began… _

“I suppose I deserve this,” he said to the waves. He began ticking off his transgressions on his fingers. “When we first met I lied to Crowley and used him, I thought he was incapable of love, and now I’ve accused him of being dishonest because of my own insecurity. Is there really no end to my terrible behavior?”

No answer from the sea was forthcoming, but it was to be expected.

He didn’t deserve answers.

Ezra marched back to the beach and began stripping off his clothes. He needed to burn off some frustrated energy, and a relaxing swim sounded like  _ just  _ the thing to do. Thankfully, he’d been swimming these waters for a full year now and knew how to avoid the stronger currents and that  _ horrible  _ Fire Coral.

_ If I  _ never  _ see another piece of that stuff it’ll  _ still  _ be too soon. _

Inwardly, he knew he’d need to head back to the nest soon to talk things out with Crowley, but at the moment he couldn’t be arsed to care. He was still rather incensed and he knew that if he went back now, he’d just rekindle their argument. No, his safest bet would be to take some time to himself to get his thoughts in proper working order.

He waded back into the water, enjoying the feel of its warmth closing around his bare skin. The beach was his  _ favorite  _ spot on the island, apart from the nest, and he always felt such a sense of peace and tranquility whenever he gazed into the crystalline waters. 

_ Maybe I’ll get lucky and see an angelfish! _

He took a deep breath and plunged under the waves. As soon as he’d opened his eyes underwater, however, a pair of arms closed vice-like around his torso and he was hauled bodily back to the surface.

“What on- What’s-?!” he sputtered angrily.

“Angel! I’m sssssorry! I’m sorry! This is all my fault! Please,  _ please _ don’t do this!” Crowley sobbed. “Don’t- don’t hurt yours-  _ please!” _

Ezra couldn’t even parse his thoughts into working order before he was laid down on the beach and a desperate, weeping naga was throwing himself on top of him.

“Crowley?!  _ What’s  _ gotten into you?!” the blonde exclaimed.

“ _ Pleassse _ , angel, don’t throw yourself into the sea because of me!” Crowley bawled, hiccuping on the last word.

“You- I-  _ what _ ?! For goodness’s sake, I was just taking a swim!”

Crowley’s head jerked up.

“Pardon?”

His expression was cracked open, vulnerable  _ and  _ embarrassed in equal measure and Ezra was helpless to do anything else but croak out, “...I should never have read you those old regency romances.”

Crowley choked on a laugh, Ezra did too, and the two of them quickly devolved into guffaws that echoed across the beach. The blonde recovered first, with one final chortle.

“Terribly sorry for laughing back there, darling. It was  _ very  _ brave of you to rescue me from a false, overdramatic ‘suicide’,”

“Yeah, yeah, get it all out of your system while you can. I deserve it,” Crowley smiled, running his hand over Ezra’s bare chest. “I actually came down here to apologize for saying that you didn’t deserve anything from me. I was wrong; that statement could not be further from the truth.”

“It’s alright, my love. You were just upset-”

“It’ssss  _ not  _ alright! I  _ hurt  _ you!”

“And I hurt  _ you,” _ Ezra reached up to caress his love’s face. “I shouldn’t have let my mind run away from me, but I did, and it forced you to divulge a part of yourself you weren’t ready to give.”

“It’s okay,” Crowley took Ezra’s hands in his and pulled them both up to their feet, refusing to let go. “I’m actually handling it better than I thought I would. It felt a bit… cathartic to get it out there in the open.”

“Really?” Ezra’s eyes shone with love and pride and  _ relief  _ that he hadn’t accidentally ruined his mate’s recovery process.

“Yeah. Edward was my best friend, but he was also a bastard who left me to die a slow, agonizing death because I disobeyed him. I was  _ never  _ interested in having him as a mate or…” Crowley swallowed. “...or as a husssssband.”

Ezra cocked his head. “What are you talking-?”

“Angel, I  _ never  _ want you to doubt how much I love you  _ ever again _ . You deserve  _ everything  _ good in the world, and I want to give it to you every moment of every day. So, in the customs of the humans…” Crowley performed a strange motion with his tail, sliding it backwards until he was doing the snakish equivalent of a kneel.

“Marry me.”


	27. Engagement News!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra gives Crowley an answer to his proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and sexual humor ahead! (Starts at "Sure thing, Fell!" and ends at "A few weeks later...")
> 
> Also, pretend that radios are ACTUALLY capable of accidentally tapping into other radio signals without the owner's conscious awareness (I know less than nothing about HAM radio lol)

_ “Marry me.” _

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was rooted to the spot, staring down at Crowley as if he had gone full-giant-snake and was rampaging through downtown Tokyo.

Crowley nervously waited for a reply for a full minute before squeaking out, “I’d appreciate an answer sometime soon, angel, because it’s  _ kinda  _ hard to kneel with no knees.”

Ezra sucked in a deep breath.

Crowley’s smile fell a centimeter.

Then Ezra started shrieking.

“ _ Yes,  _ Crowley!  _ Yesyesyes!!” _

The naga had half a second to brace himself and then he was tackled to the ground and kissed within an inch of his life. 

The kiss deepened, drifting into lustful territory, when Ezra pulled away suddenly. “Wait… we’re already mates. Why are you asking me to marry you?”

“It’s erm, well…” Crowley hid his face in his hands. “You mentioned a few days ago about wanting a wedding and I thought that it would be  _ nice  _ and you’d be so  _ happy  _ and Anathema and the others are coming in a few weeks to visit anyway so maybe-”

Ezra silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“You’re saying that you’re willing to go through a human mating ceremony in order to make me happy?” he asked quietly.

Crowley’s slitted, yellow eye peeked out from between his fingers. “Possibly…” he mumbled.

Ezra pulled his hands away to smile down at him.

“Then how could my answer be  _ anything  _ else but ‘yes’?” he whispered. “You have me forever, Crowley. You’ve been my mate, now let me thank you for asking me to be your husband.”

Ezra let his full body weight rest atop his lover ( _ fiance!  _ He thought giddly) and he pillowed his head against that broad chest he so adored. Crowley’s arms came up around his back to pull him closer.

“I… umm…” The redhead cleared his throat. “I also want to tell you the truth. All of it.  _ Everything _ . Not a single detail left out.”

Ezra lifted his head to look his fiance in the eyes. “Crowley,  _ don’t.  _ If you’re not ready, then don’t do it. I don’t want you to feel like you  _ have to  _ in order for me to marry you.”

“That’s just  _ it, _ angel,” Crowley shook his head. “I  _ need  _ to tell you! Secrets are a  _ breeding ground  _ for miscommunication and I don’t want something like the ‘Edward Misunderstanding’ to come between us again. Am I ready? No. But that’s the thing: I’ll  _ never  _ be ready! I won’t  _ ever  _ be ready, but I  _ need  _ to do it anyway. Just…” he took one of Ezra’s hands and kissed the back of it. “Just give me time to prepare. There’s a  _ lot  _ to dump out, and I’d rather save it for  _ after  _ the wedding so we don’t have anything looming over us on our big day.”

“‘Our big day’,” Ezra echoed, blissfully happy. “Thank you for your candor, my love. I promise to be understanding and patient with you when you-”

He sat bolt upright with a gasp, startling Crowley who yelped, “What? What is it?”

“ _ The wedding!”  _ Ezra gasped. “I have to tell Ana and Gabriel! Excuse me!”

He rolled off his mate and sprinted back to the nest, leaving Crowley shouting, “Wait! You forgot your clothes!!” after him.

*~*~*~*~*

The first person Ezra announced his engagement to was, of course, his dear little brother. Gabriel had been, understandably, confused, thinking that Ezra and Crowley were  _ already  _ married. Ezra had set the record straight, explaining that yes,  _ technically  _ being mates was being married, but Crowley had wanted to indulge in his human lover’s culture and throw a proper ceremony. Gabriel had spent no less than ten minutes griping about how he was going to have to wear a suit on the  _ beach  _ and that the sand would ruin it, but he’d quickly come around once he got it out of his system. Gabriel had promised to bring some wedding paraphernalia to the island when he and the others came by for the wedding, then let Ezra disconnect so he could deliver the news to Anathema.

Newt, now living with Anathema, had answered Ezra’s call and when  _ he  _ received the news, the yacht captain had squealed like a teenage girl at a concert for five straight seconds, then had the wherewithal to be embarrassed when Anathema came running in thinking that he had accidentally stepped on a very large, girly mouse.

Anathema was overjoyed for her friend and began spouting off eager suggestions for how the wedding could look.

“ _ Maybe we can have a trellis or something outside just  _ festooned  _ in native flowers! Oh! Oh! And cake! You still like rich, dark chocolate, right? I’m not gonna wear a dress of course, I want to match everyone else…” _

She’d gone on and  _ on  _ until Ezra had to pretend he was having connectivity issues and tell her that he’d call her later once he’d figured out the problem.

Now he was sitting on his knees in front of the radio, still as bare as he’d been on the beach, trying to link up to Medina’s signal to give him the good news as well. Behind him, Crowley had been watching and listening to the conversations in fond amusement, though his ears still rang from Newt’s Ringwraith-esque screech.

The radio crackled once and then Medina’s cheerful voice could be heard greeting, “Hey, Fell! What’s up? I’m guessing you’ve got good news for me? Something about a  _ wedding _ , perhaps?”

Ezra was surprised.

“Yes, actually! How did you know?” he asked.

“Gabriel called me, like, right after you told him. Pretty sure he was crying a little,” Medina replied. “I think he’s probably gonna call Tracy too and let her know. Is she invited?”

“Oh absolutely!”

“Who’s Tracy? Is it that really nice lady I’ve talked to before?” Crowley asked, thumping his tail like an eager dog.

“Yes! I’m sure she’ll be happy to finally meet…” Ezra’s words trailed off as, simultaneously, the realization that they were about to introduce a retiree to a  _ giant snake man _ sank down over the shoulders of all three men. “...um…”

Crowley glanced down at his tail. 

“This’ll  _ probably  _ make things a little awkward,” he muttered.

“W-well Tracy’s always been the open-minded sort. I suppose we can just… explain that Crowley’s a little different and whatever happens, happens!” Ezra said, a little too loudly for someone who was trying to seem unbothered.

“That… is a  _ terrible  _ idea,” Medina deadpanned. “But it’s your wedding, so you get to make the guest list.”

As he and Ezra continued discussing some of the finer details Crowley’s eyes roamed appreciatively over his mate’s nude form. Mind made up, he licked his lips and crept forward, towering over his mate from behind, chest-to-back. His hands trailed down Ezra’s front to massage at his thighs.

“J-just a moment, Medina!” the blonde squeaked. “I um… let me ask Crowley if there’s anything he’d like you to bring to the wedding!”

Ezra didn’t turn off the radio, but he  _ did  _ clap his hand over the microphone to hiss, “What are you playing at?” to Crowley.

“Nothing, angel. I’m jussssst holding my  _ fiance _ ,” the naga purred, rubbing his cheek against Ezra’s.

“ _ You  _ are being a menace,” Ezra corrected, but didn’t make him move.

He uncovered the microphone. “I just finished talking with Crowley. As a matter of fact, he wanted to know if you and the others could bring some Devilled Eggs for him.”

“What’s a ‘Devilled Egg’?” Crowley whispered.

“Sure thing, Fell!” Medina chirped. “Now, about the dress code, am I expected to wear a  _ suit  _ or…”

Ezra stopped paying attention when he felt his mate’s fingers dance across his already half-hard cock. He squeaked and stumbled back, inadvertently pressing himself closer against Crowley’s chest.

“You alright there, Fell? I just heard a noise,”

“Y-yes, quite alright, dear boy. I just… um…” Ezra covered the microphone and shot Crowley a venomous look over his shoulder, who responded by closing his hand  _ entirely  _ around his erection and began a slow, lazy pump.

The redhead grinned toothily. “Careful, angel, you don’t want him to hear you…”

Ezra had gone very red in the face.

“This is  _ most  _ inappropriate!” he scolded.

“I don’t hear a ‘stop’,”

Crowley picked up the speed of his hand and Ezra had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from moaning. The redhead laughed at his mate’s composure slipping and the feel of him twitching under his hold. Ezra took a few breaths to steady himself, then removed his hands from the microphone.

“T-terribly sorry about, er, cutting off like that. Been having a bit of radio trouble,” he stammered.

“Really? You want me to take a look at it when I visit?” Medina offered.

Curious to see just how far he could take this, Crowley rolled his hips against the plush curve of Ezra’s arse right as he bit down on a milky shoulder.

“Nnnnno! Th-that’s alright! It’s just- just the batteries! Ineedtoreplacethemnowgoodbye!”

He slammed his finger against the power button before Medina could say anything else. Crowley chuckled darkly around where he’d sank his teeth in and continued grinding his now-present hemipenes against his mate’s backside.

“Hm, thought you’d lasssst a bit longer than that,” he stated and caressed Ezra’s bottom lip with the thumb that wasn’t currently brushing over the other’s cockhead.

“You… are in  _ so much trouble _ !” Ezra growled slowly, smiling despite the embarrassment.

“No I’m not,”

“No… you aren’t,” Ezra conceded with a sigh.

He leaned his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, closing his eyes. The redhead let go of his member in favor of tracing his hands across his skin, along his stomach, and up his chest to his neck. Ezra flushed, feeling thoroughly  _ worshipped. _

Then Crowley placed a strong hand on Ezra’s nape and pushed gently forward, so that the blonde had to grip onto the radio’s metal chassis to avoid ending up on his elbows. The naga continued grinding against him, but was now draped entirely over his back to be able to kiss at a particularly creamy-looking spot of skin on his mate’s neck. Ezra hummed at the wave of pleasure that rolled up his spine and ground his hips backwards, spreading his legs a little wider. Crowley moaned into his skin.

“You aren’t intending to just rut against your fiance without making him come, are you?” Ezra asked teasingly.

“Absssssolutely  _ not _ , angel,” Crowley replied with magnanimity as he reached for a berry.

Neither one of them noticed that Ezra’s thumb had tripped the power button and that the radio was now wildly oscillating between different frequencies.

*~*~*~*~*

In Ireland, a young man was just putting the finishing touches on his radio rig in an attempt to start up his own underground anarchy music station when his speakers screeched and a breathless, English voice moaned out, “ _ Yes, darling! Fuck me hard enough that I feel it in my throat!”  _ followed immediately by a gruffer, “ _ Shit, angel!”. _

The voices disappeared as soon as they came and the young man was left scratching his head wondering if he’d somehow wired his rig wrong.

*~*~*~*~*

In the United States, an urban explorer named William lifted his walkie-talkie to his ear to inform his friends in the lower levels of the abandoned asylum they were visiting that he hadn’t found anything interesting yet. When he depressed the button to hear their reply, all that came out was a desperate sob and then a, “ _ Sssh, I’ve got you angel. That’ssss it…” _

William blinked rapidly when the message ended and he started to think that maybe this place  _ was  _ haunted.

*~*~*~*~*

In Transylvania, a woman who had a supernatural-themed radio show (and had moved to the country for that sweet, sweet “vampire clout”) greeted her next caller with a cheerful, “Welcome to Fang Gang Horror Hour! This is your host Holly-”

“ _ I would do  _ anything  _ for you. I love you ssssso  _ fucking  _ much, angel!” _

_ “Ah! Ah! Crowley I- I love you too! My darling,  _ handsome _ fiance!” _

_ “Oh fuck! Sssssay that again!” _

Holly slammed her hand down on the “End Call” button and grumbled that this was a  _ horror  _ show, not a romance music station!

*~*~*~*~*

In England, retiree Darcy was enjoying her afternoon cup of Earl Grey as she listened to her favorite Heavy Metal station on her antique radio. Halfway through “Master of Puppets”, the song was cut off to be replaced by two male voices.

“ _ You’re sssso desperate to have me inside you aren’t you? Just  _ begging  _ me to stuff you full with my cocks?” _

_ “Yes! Yes! I want- I need-” _

When Metallica resumed playing, Darcy sipped her tea and said aloud, “Get it, mate.”

*~*~*~*~*

In Rome, a man had just started holding up a bank by waving his gun threateningly through the air.

“Everybody get on the ground now!!” he shouted and patrons threw themselves to the floor to comply. 

The cheerful muzak piping through the bank’s wall speakers was starting to get annoying and he aimed his gun to destroy them when the muzak started sounding a lot less like what it normally did and instead began to sound like frantic begging and growls.

The robber was so stunned by the sudden change that he was distracted long enough for law enforcement to tackle him.

*~*~*~*~*

In New Zealand, a conspiracy theorist named Cameron was listening for interplanetary radio signals. His rig buzzed suddenly and the man prepared himself to make First Contact with the aliens that lived beyond the stars.

Instead of a bizarre, otherworldly language, the aliens were speaking simple English.

_ “Whosssse mate are you?” _

_ “Yours!  _ Yours!  _ And you’re mine! Only mine!” _

Cameron hastily ended the transmission, feeling a bit like a voyeur for extraterrestrials.

*~*~*~*~*

In Finland, a fireman and her crew had been called out to the scene of a potential house fire, only to find out that it had been a false alarm. She hopped into her vehicle to radio dispatch and inform them that it had been a misunderstanding, when she heard, “ _ Fuck me, Crowley! Harder!” _ and  _ “Yesssss!” _

Her face heated up more than any blaze had in her entire fifteen-year career.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra’s fingers had slipped from the radio casing (thankfully hitting the power button back off on their way down) and he was now face down on the floor of the nest. He twitched as he came, cock spilling onto the ground as Crowley continued thrusting into him, even after he’d gone limp and oversensitive.

It took several more pumps but eventually Crowley forced his cock as deep as it would go and filled his mate with bursts of his come as the second one painted the blonde’s lower back in streaks of white.

They were silent for a minute or two, their harsh breathing softening and slowing. Ezra was completely boneless but he managed to wipe the drool off his face with a shaky hand.

“Alright, angel?” Crowley panted.

He pulled out and Ezra took a second to mourn the loss of the cock inside him.

“ _ Goodness,  _ darling, I’m  _ filthy!” _ the blonde gasped as he felt a pearl of come leak out of his twitching hole..

“You love it,” grinned Crowley, rubbing up and down his mate’s back.

*~*~*~*~*

A few weeks later Crowley and Ezra were standing on the beach to greet the arrival of their wedding guests. As per the usual, the naga had pulled the boat ashore (to Ezra’s flustered delight) and the two of them placed bets to see who would be the first on deck.

As it turns out, the first was Gabriel. 

“Ezra!” he shouted and vaulted over the side to land in the sand.

He’d hardly taken a moment to right himself before sprinting over and wrapping his older brother up in a near-crushing hug.

“It’s  _ good  _ to see you again!” he laughed.

“I missed you too, Gabriel. Will you all be staying for another week?” Ezra asked.

“You bet!” Gabriel walked over and clapped Crowley on his back. “How have you been, big guy? Looking forward to the wedding?”

“More than  _ anything _ ,” sighed Crowley.

He pressed a quick kiss to his mate’s temple and Newt, who had been the second off the ship, cooed in delight.

“I’m really looking forward to this. I’ve never been to a wedding before,” the yacht captain explained.

“Speaking of people who have never been somewhere before…” Ezra twisted his fingers nervously. “Is Tracy still inside the cabin? Has she seen Crowley yet?”

“Yeah, she’s still in there and no, she hasn’t,” Gabriel answered. “Right now Anathema and Medina are trying to ease her and her husband into the idea that your soon-to-be-husband might be a little different.”

“Wait,  _ Shadwell  _ is here?!” Ezra said nervously.

Shadwell was somewhat of an odd duck, in Ezra’s opinion. The man seemed to be obsessed with witches and had at one point, when Ezra first moved to Soho, jabbed him with a hat pin to “test for wickedness”. It had been quite an unpleasant experience and Ezra had avoided the old man like the plague ever since, though he  _ adored  _ Tracy.

“Yeah, those two are a package deal, unfortunately,” Gabriel grunted.

Gabriel didn’t like Shadwell either, which was largely due to the fact that he had woken up one night to find the lunatic hovering over him ringing a bell ominously in his face like he was collecting for the Salvation Army.

Gabriel hadn’t slept right for a  _ month _ after that and  _ still  _ double-checked all his doors and windows before bed to this day.

Ezra moved closer to his fiance and placed a protective hand on his arm.

“Is this really a good idea? What if he hurts Crowley?” He stared pointedly at the boat.

“Please!” Gabriel scoffed with an unconcerned roll of his eyes. “If  _ Medina with a gun  _ couldn’t hurt Crowley, I doubt a 200-year-old madman with a candle could.”

“Yeah, angel, I’ll be fine,” Crowley patted Ezra’s hand.

“Oh I  _ do  _ hope so, dearest,”

They didn’t have to wait long, as Anathema appeared on deck, walking arm in arm with a blindfolded Tracy. Medina was doing the same with Shadwell, similarly blindfolded, but the self-proclaimed “Witchfinder Army General” was complaining the entire time.

“Where are ye takin’ me ya great lumberin’ pillock?!” he barked angrily.

“We’re just going down to the beach, Shadwell sir,” Medina explained with all the politeness he could muster.

“Will dear little Ezra be there?” Tracy asked.

“Ask him yourself,” Anathema replied.

Ezra stepped forward and grasped Tracy’s hands in his. “Oh, my good madam! It’s  _ wonderful  _ to see you again!”

The small woman sniffled and kissed his cheek (or as close as she could get while temporarily blinded, which was actually the spot right under his eye).

“Ezra, dearie, I’m  _ so glad  _ you’re safe! It broke my heart to hear of your ‘passing’,” she said, overcome with emotion. “Part of me didn’t believe that you were  _ actually  _ alive until we pulled up here and I could see it for myself! Er, speaking of ‘see’...” She pointed to the cloth around her eyes. “Why do Mr. Shadwell and I need this?”

“It’s because of me,” Crowley interrupted. “I’m a little… different and we don’t want you or your husband to freak out before introductions were made.”

Tracy tilted her head up and Crowley could see the way her thin eyebrows shot up over the blindfold. “Goodness, you’re voice sounds like it’s coming from above me. You really are quite tall, aren’t you?” she breathed.

“Uh… sort of… Like I said, I’m pretty unusual,”

Tracy waved him off. “Nonsense! Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing! Any fiance of Ezra’s is sure to be absolutely wonderful!”

Crowley shot Ezra a pleading look who, in turn, nodded once.

“Alright then. You can take off the blindfolds,” the naga said nervously.

Tracy and Shadwell did so almost simultaneously. The Witchfinder’s eyes narrowed a fraction at the sight of Crowley’s tail, but he appeared otherwise unaffected. Tracy, however, looked rather surprised and was blinking rapidly as if trying to clear her eyes.

“Well that… that certainly  _ is  _ different,” she said, taking in the sight of long, powerful coils and slitted, golden eyes.

“Yeah, I uh… can’t really help it,” Crowley mumbled, embarrassed.

“How many nipples have ya got, laddie?” Shadwell demanded suddenly.

Ezra and Tracy both gasped out an affronted, “ _ Mister Shadwell _ !” but Crowley was just perplexed. He looked down at his own chest, made a show of counting on his fingers, then replied, “Ah… just the two. Which is actually pretty impressive considering snakes shouldn’t have  _ any _ .”

That answer seemed to satisfy the Witchfinder who nodded once. Evidently, as long as Crowley wasn’t a witch, he was alright in Shadwell’s book. 

Ezra felt himself relax considerably.

Maybe the wedding would go off without a hitch.


	28. Bachelor Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema and Co plan Crowley and Ezra's Bachelor Parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all still thirsty for Medina on Ezra action?
> 
> Also, Crowley/Ezra smut starts at the last "*~*~*~*~*" and goes on until the end.

“Would you and Shadwell like a tour of our home?” Ezra held out his arm for Tracy to take.

“We would _love_ to!” the woman replied happily. 

The others remained by the boat while Crowley and Ezra began leading the two newest visitors around their shared spots.

“As you can see, this is the beach. It’s where Crowley and I first met! Well… sort of. He saw me, but I didn’t see him,” Ezra explained.

Tracy expressed how picturesque she found it and Shadwell just harrumphed. Ezra led them further into the jungle to the rockpool.

“Cooee Mr. Shadwell, that’s proper romantic, that is,” Tracy giggled, clapping her hands at the sight of the towering waterfall. Even her husband had to make a noise of approval.

“Allow us to take you to our nest. It’s sort of like our ‘house’,”

Ezra took Tracy’s arm again and the four of them made their way to the cave. Shadwell was the first to notice the four snakes gathered around the entrance and yelped, “Ack! Fell! Ye’ve got an infestation of wee beasties!”

Rose hissed indignantly at being called “wee” and Crowley leapt protectively in front of his sisters, bearing his fangs with a snarl at the Witchfinder. Ezra was quick to step in.

“C-calm down now, everyone! Mr. Shadwell, these fine ladies here are Crowley’s older sisters: Rose, Blanche, Sophia, and Dorothy,” he explained.

“Ooh! I _love_ ‘ _The Golden Girls’_!” Tracy clapped her hands again. “They’re one of my favorite TV shows!”

“There’s that _word_ again! If you keep this up I’m gonna start thinking that ‘televisions’ are real!” Crowley threw up his hands in frustration.

Tracy and Shadwell gave Ezra a _look_ and the blonde returned one of his own that was silently begging them not to ask.

“Well in any case…” Tracy smiled at the serpents. “It’s a pleasure to meet you four. I hope we all get along!”

Blanche and Sophia were eager to greet the newcomers, though Dorothy and Rose hung back. Crowley’s posture relaxed when he saw that none of his sisters were going to be harmed.

Shadwell muttered something about how at least they weren’t black cats and gave a polite nod to Rose who, to him, looked big enough to be a good candidate for a Witchfinder apprentice.

“Would you like to see the rest of the nest?” Ezra asked in a pleased voice. “The Salvage Room is _really_ remarkable! You should _see_ how many crates Crowley’s been able to scavenge over the years.”

“It’s quite alright, Ezra. We’d hate to intrude on your little den,” Tracy giggled as Dorothy draped herself over the woman’s shoulders and flicked at her cheek with a snaky tongue. “Though I _would_ like to know if these four will be attending the bachelor parties?”

Crowley looked confused. “What’s a ‘bachelor party’?”

“Et’s a _grand_ tradition,” Shadwell explained proudly, stepping forward to slap Crowley on the back. “Ye get together with yer mates to mourn yer last day of freedom and lament the upcoming nuptials!”

Crowley was still perplexed.

“Why would I be sad about marrying Ezra? I’d be sad if I _couldn’t_ marry him,” he said with a tilt of his head.

“Oh, _Crowley_!” Ezra mooned and pulled the naga down by his face to give him a sweet kiss.

“Well, it can just be a celebration for the wedding, instead!” Tracy suggested.

“Th-that’s unnecessary!” protested Ezra. “We don’t need-”

“Don’t need what, angel?” Crowley teased with an upticked eyebrow. “You _don’t_ want to rejoice in spending the rest of your life with me? I’m truly hurt.”

“It’s not _that_! It’s just…” Ezra rubbed his hand slowly over his Mating Mark. “It’s just that these kinds of parties can get a little… wild. There’s usually drinking and… strippers.” He mumbled the last word as a blush crept up his neck.

“‘Strippers’? Like, what, peeling paint off of wood? Because that doesn’t sound like a fun party activity,” Crowley complained

“N-no! ‘Stripping’ is… well… hrm…” Ezra struggled to find the correct word when his mate burst out laughing.

“I’m _joking_ , angel. I know what a stripper is,” he grinned.

“Th-then you see why a Bachelor Party is a bad idea!” Ezra said, triumphant.

“I don’t know about _that_ ,” purred Crowley and twirled a lock of Ezra’s hair around his finger. “I’m sure _Medina_ would be _more_ than happy to put on a little show for your pleasure…”

The blonde gasped, offended, and his mate laughed again. “I’m joking again! I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Though a party with all our friends _does_ sound like a lot of fun.”

Ezra could see through Crowley’s playful demeanour to the genuine interest underneath and the subtle plea for him to give it a try.

“Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…” the blonde smiled indulgently.

Crowley whooped, Tracy clapped, and the four serpents hissed (and rattled) a cheer.

*~*~*~*~*

The wedding was scheduled on the third day of the visit, so the first two were spent preparing for the ceremony as well as two seperate Bachelor Parties.

Newt, Gabriel, Shadwell, and Anathema all teamed up to plan Crowley’s party while Medina, Tracy, Rose, Dorothy, Blanche, and Sophia worked on Ezra’s. The grooms-to-be were having a lazy day inside their nest while everyone else conspired.

“We brought plenty of alcohol,” Gabriel drummed his fingers on a table on the boat’s deck. “But can snakes even drink?”

“Not really, but I’m pretty sure Crowley’s human half cancels it out,” Anathema smirked.

“Well if he can’t drink, there’s always music and games and dancing,” Newt pointed out.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, babe,” Anathema praised. “We can strip you naked and have you jump out of a pile of coconuts in lieu of a cake.”

Newt squeaked as Gabriel said, “Nah. That’d be a bad idea. Crowley might think we’re sacrificing your boyfriend and try to eat him.”

Newt squeaked again.

“Speaking of ‘eating’ did we remember to bring the cake and the food?” Anathema asked, ignoring her boyfriend.

“Yeah, it’s in the fridge.”

The cake was nothing professionally made. It was a squat, brick-shaped thing that was longer than it was tall and would have looked vaguely like a cake from the supermarket were it not for the shoddy icing cover. Still, it had been made with love and everyone knew Ezra couldn’t resist a dark chocolate cake, regardless of quality. Other goodies were stored away as well, including the Devilled Eggs Ezra had requested for Crowley. Those had been prepared by Medina who had to keep slapping Gabriel’s hand to keep him from stealing a few because, “ _They’re just too good!”_

Anathema suddenly slammed her hands on the table, startling Newt and Gabriel and causing Shadwell to curse a blue line.

“I’ve got an idea!” she grinned wickedly.

*~*~*~*~*

Medina stared down at the article of clothing Tracy had thrust into his hands. 

It could _literally_ be described as “a piece of string”.

“I, er… I’m not sure this is appropriate Bachelor Party attire,” he mumbled.

“It is if you’re giving a show,” Tracy winked and Medina went red.

He fisted the g-string in his hand and shook it threateningly. “I- I am Naval Captain Carlos Medina! I have rescued _countless_ lives from watery graves and travelled seas the world over! I’m not some- some- piece of eye candy!”

“I never said you were, dear,” Tracy replied with an amused expression. “I just figured that, since you mentioned being a Burlesque Dancer before…”

“One year!” Medina sputtered. “It was one year! And I was damn good at it!”

“I _know_ you were,” Tracy patted his arm comfortingly. “I just figured that, if Ezra was amenable of course, you might enjoy performing for him tonight.”

When Medina stopped ranting, she knew she had him. His mouth opened and closed, then he looked down at the skimpy little number in his hands. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“What’s a little strip-tease between friends?” Tracy smiled a smile that was somehow both cloying _and_ vicious.

*~*~*~*~*

The night before the wedding, Ezra and Crowley sat together in their nest, theorizing over what was to come. 

“So how does a Bachelor Party start?” Crowley poked at his mate’s side, who was rather ticklish there and yelped as a result.

“Well, traditionally both individuals for whom the parties are being thrown are abducted by their friends and-”

“‘Abducted’?!” the naga cried in slight alarm and grabbed his mate.

“It’s just a phrase, darling,” Ezra smiled and patted his arm. “No one is _actually_ taken. The friends of the bride and groom, or groom and groom in this case, separate the two of them for a night of revelry!”

“So are they gonna come here or do we have to go to them?” Crowley asked.

“You know, I’m not quite sure,” Ezra hummed. “Perhaps they’ll-”

“Ezra, dear! We’re coming in! I hope you’re ready to go!” Tracy called from down the cavern.

Crowley opened his mouth, no doubt to pull the same prank on her as he had tried to do on Anathema a year ago, but Ezra clapped a hand over his mouth before he could.

“Of course, Tracy! I’m ready!” He shot a flat glare at his mate who licked the palm of his hand, forcing Ezra to snatch it away with a disgusted cry.

Rose and Blanche were the first to enter the nest and they promptly bit into the hem of his pant legs and tried to tug him away.

“ _This_ is the ‘abduction’?” Crowley chuckled.

Dorothy made a distressed hissing noise and her brother had to reassure her that, no, he knew they weren’t _actually_ stealing his mate.

“Come along now, dears,” Tracy said with a gentle touch to Ezra’s elbow. “We all have a nice wedding bright and early tomorrow, so we need to start the party _now_ so we don’t stay up too late!”

Ezra couldn’t agree more, and allowed himself to be “abducted”.

“Now what am _I_ supposed to do?” Crowley sniffed, annoyed at the prospect of being stuck alone until Anathema and her posse showed up to do _who-knows-what_ that they’d planned.

He didn’t have long to wait before he heard the sounds of Gabriel whining vociferously about something.

“Don’t see why _I_ have to carry the cooler!”

“It’s ‘cause you’ve got muscles, Gabe,” Anathema deadpanned. “Also I’m just _really_ lazy.”

Crowley’s Bachelor Party had arrived!

Gabriel dropped a bright red cooler on the floor of the nest with a dramatic groan, causing Anathema to roll her eyes. 

“You can drink alcohol right, big guy?” she patted the lid of the cooler like a treasure chest.

“Yeah,” Crowley replied nonchalantly. “Rum was my drink of choice, but I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“You’re in luck! We brought a bunch of ingredients to make cocktails and Bacardi just happens to be one of them!” Anathema fished around in the cooler before holding up a tall, slender glass bottle. “I was thinking with this we could make-”

Crowley’s hand lashed out and he snatched the bottle from her. In a movement that was almost faster than any of the gathered humans could follow, he popped the cap off and downed the entire thing in five swift gulps. When it was all gone, he smacked his lips and peered at the label, completely unaffected by the massive quantity of alcohol he had just consumed.

“Huh. Is that coconut?” he mused. “Tastes _way_ better than what _I_ used to drink, back in the day.”

Gabriel, Newt, Shadwell, and Anathema stared at Crowley in baffled awe.

“T-that was 25 fluid ounces of 80 proof straight rum,” Newt gaped, a tiny bit frightened.

Gabriel took the bottle from his soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Well, there goes my chance for a Knickerbocker.”

“Aye, laddie…” Shadwell looked like he was re-considering Crowley’s potential witchcraft abilities.

The redhead licked a drop of rum off his lips.

“What else have you got?”

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra, meanwhile, had been led through the darkened jungle and to the beach whereupon he was promptly seated in a folding camper chair. Through the darkness, lit only by starlight, he could see the rented cruiser seated on the beach directly in front of him, but not much else beyond that. 

“Ooh! Are we going to have a pleasant evening stargazing?” he asked, his eyes twinkling like the stars themselves at the thought.

He could hear Tracy unfold two more chairs in the sand beside him and Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia slithering into one of them.

“Oh you’ll certainly be gazing at _something_ soon,” Tracy crooned, patting his cheek.

She sat down on the last remaining chair and clapped her hands twice, like turning on a clapper lamp. Almost instantly, a flood light attached to the front of the boat snapped on, bathing the beach in a bright, halogenic glow. Ezra blinked to adjust his eyes to the sudden light and then flinched as music began playing from somewhere (Tracy’s phone, presumably).

Right in the center of the makeshift spotlight, Medina stood facing away from Ezra, with his arms crossed behind his straight back and his legs spread a little. The blonde’s face heated up as he came to the realization that his friend was wearing a pair of _very tight_ black pants that hugged his (admittedly quite nice) arse and a loose, billowy white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing dark forearms dusted with darker hair.

“I hear _someone’s_ getting married tomorrow,” the naval captain announced.

Tracy facepalmed at the utterly cliche introduction. Dorothy hissed excitedly at the same time Sophia rattled her tail. If Rose could roll her eyes, she would have (she’d never been into guy snakes). Blanche was staring, enraptured.

“I… I suppose I am,” Ezra stuttered and slipped lower into his chair. “Though, dear boy, you already know this. You’re Crowley’s _best man_!”

“Just _play along_ , Ezra!” Tracy hissed into his ear.

Medina didn’t let himself break character as he pulled an impressive about-face, his hands now steadily working at each of the buttons on his shirt, exposing his chest which appeared to be oiled up with something so it caught the light to draw attention to the well-defined lines of it. He strutted forward with _purpose,_ hips sashaying the entire way and Tracy wolf-whistled. Even Ezra was helpless to prevent his eyes from travelling down to the flat planes of Medina’s stomach.

Before Ezra was even consciously aware it was happening, Medina had gotten close enough to lean into his personal space, hands planted on both arms of the chair and caging him against the backrest.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” he whispered huskily into Ezra’s burning ear.[1]

“Ah, erm… I d-didn’t know you spoke French,”

“You have to learn other languages if you travel as much as _I_ do…”

“Just say ‘yes’, Ezra, or the show can’t continue!” Tracy insisted.

Ezra glanced up into electric-blue eyes that seemed to be boring into his soul.

“Y-yes?” he said nervously, not certain what it was he had just agreed to.

A slow smile curved across Medina’s face and he pulled away suddenly. Ezra didn’t even get the chance to inquire further about his friend’s words. Medina whipped his shirt off the rest of the way, straddled Ezra’s lap, and looped it around the back of his neck to tug his face forward and kiss the tip of his nose.

The blonde uttered a strangled, creaky croak as Medina let his fingers slip from the shirt and he stood up, leaving it behind. Standing close enough to Ezra to practically still be in his lap, Medina swivelled his hips in a figure eight then slipped both of his thumbs through the belt loops of his pants to begin tugging them down over hip bones sharp enough to cut glass. Ezra watched, mesmerized, but the slow reveal stopped suddenly in favor of Medina holding out a hand to Tracy who slipped him something.

Ezra was just about to ask what it was, when the other man answered for him by dangling a pitted cherry in front of his face. Medina ran the fruit over his audience member’s bottom lip, then popped the cherry into his own mouth. He pursed his lips and shifted his jaw. After a tense minute or two, Medina stuck his tongue out, revealing a single bright red cherry stem that had no less than _three_ consecutive knots tied into it.

Tracy applauded loudly and Ezra’s jaw dropped in stunned amazement. With a smirk, Medina plucked the stem from his mouth and placed it gently on top of Ezra’s tongue before closing the other’s mouth with the press of his fingers against his chin.

“Want some help untying those?” the captain purred.

Suddenly there came the sound of something whistling through the air, followed by a series of pops and flashing, colorful lights. Medina jumped backwards with a startled cry and landed hard on his rear next to a flickering cardboard tube that spilled forth a cascade of green sparks. Another such tube rolled under Tracy’s feet to begin sputtering orange sparks and she clapped her hands giddily.

“Looks like we’re being ‘Crashed’!” she cheered over the din.

Anathema, Newt, Gabriel, Crowley, and Shadwell burst forth from the treeline, faces painted in garish colors and symbols as they hollered war cries and brandished empty bottles of liquor like weapons. Ezra yelped when his brother threw down a fistful of poppers that sounded like miniature gunfire. He jumped out of his chair to confront the “invasion” but was pulled back against Medina’s bare chest who playfully bellowed, “You’ll never take us alive!”

Sophia rattled her tail in agreement as Blanche snatched up a firework tube in her mouth to aim the sparks at Shadwell. 

“We’ll see about _that_!” declared Anathema, kicking over the empty chair where Ezra had previously been sitting. 

The beach erupted into chaos (moreso than it already was) with the “invaders” hurling small firecrackers like bombs and the “defenders” trying valiantly to keep Ezra away from them. Medina was making a noble effort, but it quickly ended when Gabriel yanked him away to wrestle him to the ground as he dramatically cried out, “Nooo! Save yourself, Fell!”

Ezra giggled and tried to dart to safety, when he felt a pair of _supernaturally_ strong hands close around his arms and a sibilant voice whisper in his ear, “Gotcha, _angel._ ”

“Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?” Ezra asked breathlessly.

“I wasssss thinking of potentially re-abducting you to our nest and seeing where the night takes us?”

“We’d better go quickly, then, before anyone notices we’re sneaking off,” Ezra stated giddily.

“We’ll be fine. They won’t notice until the firecrackers run out,”

From somewhere across the beach, Newt shrieked as he was hotly pursued by Tracy who menaced him with a sparkler.

“Still, I would prefer not to wait,” Ezra added before yanking Crowley down into a kiss heavy with _promise._

*~*~*~*~*

The two of them stumbled back to the cave, their way illuminated only by the glow of Crowley’s unearthly eyes. They’d barely cleared the way into their nest before they were stumbling down amongst the pillows, Ezra seated atop his mate’s hips. The blonde was the first to join their mouths and Crowley gasped when Ezra began grinding against him. 

The naga rolled his pelvis up and said raggedly, “You looked like you were having fun with Medina’s little show.”

His hands stroked across Ezra’s thighs who felt flushed with heat. Crowley pushed up a little so that he was sitting with the blonde astride his lap as he mouthed the curve of Ezra’s neck with _just_ enough fang to keep things interesting. Ezra fisted a hand into mahogany hair, arching his back to be able to press chest-to-chest against Crowley.

“He’s _handsome,_ yes,” Ezra forced out past the tremble in his voice. “But he could _never_ compare to you; to how much I _love_ you.”

“Either way…” Crowley growled against his skin with a rough, possessive tone that Ezra could feel down to his marrow. “I’m gonna make you come so hard that you forget your own _name_ and that _anything_ else exists beyond my cocks.”

Ezra moaned and tugged Crowley’s head back to deliver a hard, biting kiss that had their tongues curling against each other. Crowley’s hands drifted down to Ezra’s henley and he yanked it up, breaking the kiss to get it off his mate. There was a bit of awkward scrambling that followed in order for the blonde to get his jeans off, but it was worth it to be able to re-perch back in Crowley’s lap now completely naked. 

Ezra moaned at the feel of his cock brushing up against the other’s hemipenes and Crowley immediately smothered the sound with his own mouth. Ezra pressed against him, mouth opening further, when he felt questing fingers dip into the cleft of his arse. 

“ _You’re_ handsome too, Crowley. You know that, right?” he breathed. “Actually, you’re _more_ than handsome. You’re _beautiful. Gorgeous.”_

“I- I-”

Crowley’s tail abruptly pressed up and over Ezra’s back, pushing them fully against each other until there was barely an atom’s width of space between them. The naga’s hands held Ezra’s hips in place around the width of his tail as he set a truly punishing pace. The blonde wailed and threw his arms around Crowley’s shoulders to hold on for dear life. 

Over the grunts of Crowley’s exertions, Ezra could vaguely make out the sounds of himself gasping his fiance’s name like it was a plea for salvation.

“C-come for me darling! M-make _me_ come! Oh! Ye- yes! Yes!” he sobbed, gripping tighter.

They came together, almost simultaneously, with Ezra’s throat scraped raw from practically screaming his release and Crowley making a sound like his soul was being ripped from his body.

Afterwards, once the post-orgasm haze died down, Ezra was able to get a clear look at the other man. Though both of their stomachs were streaked with white, Crowley had five red lines of paint slashed diagonally across his face from his right ear to the left side of his chin. Ezra remembered how Anathema and Gabriel’s faces had been marked similarly and he doubled over with a snort.

“Don’t laugh,” huffed Crowley. “It was Anathema’s idea to get ‘geared up’ and go raid your party.”

“I’m _glad_ you all did. It certainly made for a _perfect_ Bachelor Party,” Ezra sighed happily as he pressed a light peck to a reddened nose.

“And tomorrow’s gonna make for a perfect wedding, right?” Crowley asked with a slightly vulnerable shine to his eyes.

“Of _course_ it will,” Ezra nuzzled his cheek. “Because _you’ll_ be there.”

*~*~*~*~*

1"Do you want to sleep with me, tonight?"[return to text]


	29. Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Ezra have their wedding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We FINALLY earn that "Double Penetration" tag lol. (Starts at "It was clear that Crowley..." and ends at the final "*~*~*~*~*")

“You ready for this, buddy?” Medina asked with a nudge to Crowley’s shoulder.

The two of them stood side-by-side on the beach with Shadwell next to them, flipping through a tattered bible. Across from them were a few folding chairs arranged in a crude facsimile of church pews. The only humans in them were Tracy, dressed in a lovely sky-blue sundress, and Newt, squirming excitedly in a suit that was at least two sizes too big for him. Another seat was occupied by Blanche, Sophia, and Rose, who wore matching blue ribbons tied around their throats. They appeared to be conversing between each other.

Crowley swallowed and nodded his head.

“I am  _ very  _ ready, but what if  _ he’s  _ not? What if Ezra changes his mind or something?” he answered, smiling nervously.

Medina adjusted the cuff of his dark-grey long-sleeve dress and cast Crowley a disbelieving stare.

“He’s  _ already  _ your husband, practically. Think of this as just a formality,” the captain said primly. 

“But what if-”

They were cut off by Anathema, in her double-button suit, wedging her phone into the sand and pressing a button on the screen to begin playing Queen’s cover of “ _The_ _Wedding March_ ”. As soon as it started she jogged her way over to the makeshift altar (which was really just Shadwell standing on an old crate) and took her place across from Crowley and Medina. She shared a beaming smile with them, before turning to face the “aisle”. 

The first one to come down was Dorothy, wearing a bow like her other sisters. She had a tiny pouch clenched in her mouth with an equally tiny slit down the side that shook pink flower petals loose every time she slithered. Once she’d reached the head of the aisle, and her pouch was empty, she crawled her way into a chair. 

Crowley gave her a thumbs up and then lifted his eyes back to the aisle.

His breath caught in his throat.

Ezra stood there, wearing a cream-colored suit, clutching a bouquet of Forget-me-Nots that Blanche had spent several hours threatening into perfection as per her brother’s request. The blonde locked eyes with his future husband and gave him a megawatt grin that had Crowley momentarily forgetting that there were other people around. 

Gabriel stepped forward in a slim-cut, lilac-colored suit to take his brother’s hand and walk him down the aisle, when Ezra slipped free to  _ sprint  _ towards his mate.

“Ezra! Wait! I’m supposed to give you- And he’s gone,” Gabriel huffed, looking somehow both annoyed and unbearably fond. 

He just shook his head good-naturedly and took his seat beside Newt. 

Ezra meanwhile, had reached the altar and proceeded to immediately throw himself into Crowley’s arms for a passionate kiss. The naga returned the kiss wholeheartedly and swept Ezra, quite literally, off his feet into a bridal carry.

“Oi! Hold yer horses until I say my piece!” Shadwell said angrily.

Neither of the two grooms seemed to hear him as they continued their furious snogging. Anathema patted the Witchfinder’s shoulder in a consoling manner.

“Just let them have this,” she sighed in an affectionate tone over the sounds of kissing.

“Aye, lassie,” Shadwell sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. He clapped his bible shut. “By the power vested in me by the Witchfinder Army - the only  _ legitimate  _ form of governance in this degenerate world - I hereby pronounce ye married! I’d say ye ken kiss the groom but ye’ve already go’ that covered.”

“Aw, we didn’t get any cute vows,” Newt pouted sadly, but was quickly appeased when the bouquet landed in his lap.

The guests broke out in applause, which brought Ezra and Crowley back to the present.

“Oh dear, seems we skipped a few steps,” the blonde giggled with his arms around his mate’s flushed neck.

Crowley set Ezra back down on the ground and the two of them turned to accept the congratulations from their guests.

Gabriel wrapped them both in a bear hug that had even Crowley gasping for breath.

“I’m so  _ happy  _ for you two!” the younger Fell brother said in a voice that was trying  _ desperately  _ not to wobble with elated tears. “Mom would have  _ loved  _ Crowley, I just  _ know it _ !”

Ezra sniffled and let his own tears fall freely, which in turn triggered Gabriel’s until the two of them were a blubbering mess. Crowley shifted awkwardly, then remembered that  _ he  _ was now part of the family too and rested his head atop Gabriel’s.

“Hey! Move over before you drown them!” Anathema gave a playful shove and Gabriel’s arms pinwheeled as he stumbled back. The occultist sighed happily. “I always knew I’d be your Maid of Honor. I just didn’t think you’d beat me to getting married.”

“Jealous? It’s not  _ my  _ fault that you’re so slow,” Ezra dragged out the last word and Anathema sputtered in false indignation before flicking at his ear.

“I’ll have you know that Newt and I are waiting for the right moment! Can’t just rush into these things like  _ you two  _ do!” she smirked.

“Are you guys talking about me?”

Newt was still holding onto the bouquet as he stepped forward. “If you guys  _ are  _ talking about me, I only ask that it be nice things.”

“ _ Of course _ , dear boy!” Ezra said with a thankful air. “I owe you, in particular,  _ so much _ . I’m not sure if I ever told you this before, but if it weren’t for your timely intervention last year when Gabriel tried to take me back to London, I wouldn’t be getting married today.”

Newt took off his glasses and played with the hinge timidly.

“It was nothing, really,” he said in a soft voice. “I may not have Anathema’s ability to see auras - or even 20/20 vision for that matter - but even I could see how much you two loved and needed each other. To have allowed you to be separated would have been as good as murder in my book.”

Crowley clasped both of Newt’s hands in his larger, more calloused ones. “ _ Thank you _ , Twitchy Human. You stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

Anathema swept forward to press a firm kiss against her boyfriend’s lips. “Damn right he did!”

Newt turned as red as Crowley’s hair and was pulled away at the same time Tracy pecked both Ezra and Crowley’s cheeks.

“This was just  _ wonderful _ !” she breathed, as if she’d just gotten through attending Diana’s wedding instead of an amateur, half-baked ceremony between a snake-man and a human. “I can’t  _ wait  _ for you to try the cake! I made it with lots of love!”

Ezra made a little “ooh!” of delight and wiggled. “Thank you, Tracy. Your baked goods are  _ always  _ a treat!”

He refrained from mentioning that, while they  _ were  _ tasty, they always looked like they’d been scrounged from the dumpster in a Denny’s parking lot.

“Cake. Wa’s the point o’ cake fer a weddin’? Seems like devilry ta me…” Shadwell said suspiciously.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ !” Tracy chided with a smack to her husband’s chest. “There’re no witches here, Mr. Shadwell, and I won’t have you spoiling these boys’  _ perfect  _ day!”

From behind her, Anathema cleared her throat pointedly.

Shadwell rolled his eyes, but obeyed his wife’s commands. “Aye, ya Scarlet Jezebel. No witch huntin’ fer today.” He pointed at Ezra. “But I’ll be keepin’ mah  _ eye  _ on  _ you _ , Mr. Fell.”

Crowley pulled his mate, now husband, close to him and bared just a hint of fang that Shadwell ignored in favor of glaring daggers at Ezra until he felt a tug on his pant leg. The Witchfinder looked down to see Rose saluting him smartly with the tip of her tail as she hissed something.

“ _ Hiss! Sssss… Hiss!” _

“What are ye sayin’, Witchfinder Private Rose?”

“She’s saying that my angel is  _ not  _ a witch!” Crowley growled. “She’s saying that she investigated him thoroughly and found no signs of Witchcraft...” He turned a love-sick gaze to the human in his arms. “...beyond his ability to enchant me.”

“ _ Dearest!” _

The two of them were quickly kissing again until Blanche somehow managed to crawl up Crowley’s body to wedge herself between them and break the kiss which was rapidly shifting into PG-13 territory. She booped her head against her brother’s repeatedly until Ezra asked what she was trying to say.

“She wants to know where the food she was promised is,” Crowley pushed her gently away and she dropped to the sand.

“We’ve kept everything inside the cabin on the boat to keep the seagulls away from it,” Tracy held out her hand and the white-gold viper climbed into it. “Allow me to take you there.”

Rose trailed after her, Blanche, and Shadwell which left Sophia and Dorothy behind to deliver their own snaky congratulations.

Sophia rattled her tail long and loud which Crowley explained was her demanding to know why she didn’t get to be a ring-bearer like she’d wanted.

Ezra squatted down so he could be eye-level (or as close to as possible) with the agitated serpent. “Because, sweet one, we didn’t have any rings and even if we did, they’d most likely get lost in the jungle and we wouldn’t want  _ that _ .”

Sophia’s rattles slowed down as she considered her new brother-in-law’s words, then she nodded smartly, apparently placated by the impeccable logic in his statement. Dorothy slithered up Ezra’s leg to curl as much of her thin body around his left ring finger as she could.

Crowley chuckled with a delighted smile. “Dorothy is saying that she could be our rings if we want.”

“Well, we’ll certainly call you whenever we have need of your services,” Ezra lied, so as not to hurt the little snake’s feelings (Dorothy always had somewhat of a fragile emotional constitution).

Dorothy suddenly scurried up Ezra’s arm to tunnel under his sleeve. The cause of her shyness, Medina, shook Crowley’s hand and then Ezra’s (the one not currently housing a  _ terribly  _ timid snake).

“This is gonna sound  _ really  _ tasteless…” Medina began with a nervous hand running through his hair. “But when I first met you, Crowley, I had  _ every  _ intention of killing you and taking Ezra to safety. Now I’m standing here as your best man for your wedding to him.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty surreal,” Crowley admitted.

“Don’t mistake my tone for regret. I’m truly happy to be here for the both of you. I’m looking forward to the rest of our visit!” Medina pulled the both of them into a quick hug.

“Yoohoo!”

From atop the ship’s deck, Tracy waved her hand. “The cake’s ready to be cut! We need the grooms to do the honors!”

Medina stepped back, letting said grooms go.

“Shall we, dearest?” Ezra asked eagerly, holding out a hand.

“Anything for you, husband,” Crowley smiled, and took it.

*~*~*~*~*

“Hey. Hey, angel. I bet I could fit that  _ whole cake  _ in my mouth,” Crowley whispered mischievously into his husband’s ear as Ezra sliced the cake into squares for everyone.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ , you foul fiend!” the blonde brandished the knife, the tip angled right between Crowley’s eyes. “Tracy worked  _ hard  _ on this!”

Crowley swallowed heavily and mumbled, “Angel, not to weird you out or anything, but seeing you threaten me with a knife is  _ kind of  _ doin’ it for me.”

Ezra blushed a little, thankful that none of the other party-goers could hear them. His eyes darted furtively around. When he was sure that no one was watching them, he dragged the tip of the knife down the side of Crowley’s cheek, with just enough pressure to leave a faint red line and a smear of frosting behind.

The redhead’s pupils dilated slightly, and then promptly blew  _ wide  _ when Ezra stood on his tiptoes to lick the icing line.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darling,”

“D-do you maybe wanna sssssneak off to the nest and-”

The cabin door was kicked open by Medina balancing three platters of Devilled Eggs (one for each hand and another atop his head). 

“Hey, Crowley! I got those eggs you wanted!” he said.

He held out a platter to the naga who just squinted in confusion.

They certainly  _ looked  _ like eggs, but none he’d ever seen before. The yolk was obviously boiled, but had been whipped up and sprinkled with red powder..

“Are they… rotten?” He picked one up and peered at it. “Is that why they look like this?”

“‘Rotten’? Far from it! The red stuff is paprika!” scoffed Medina. 

Crowley’s tongue scented the air around the egg and he, finding it to be an interesting smell, popped it into his mouth. Almost instantly his eyes went wide.

“How did you  _ do that _ ?!” he exclaimed amazedly.

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Medina explained casually. “You boil some eggs, pull out the yolks, whip ‘em together with some ingredients, then pipe it all back into the egg white ‘cup’.”

Crowley gulped down another mouthful and Ezra smiled, feeling quite pleased that he knew his mate’s tastes so well.

“I knew he’d love it. Thank you, Medina,” the blonde said.

“Consider it my wedding present to him. I’ve got the recipe written down and enough ingredients to make more while I’m here. Oh! Speaking of presents…” Medina reached into a storage chest under a fishing bench on the deck and pulled out a bulky, wrapped package festooned in red and green. “I didn’t have any other wrapping paper except for Christmas colors. This one’s for you, Fell.”

While Crowley continued eating his eggs, Ezra peeled back the wrapping. He gasped aloud when he saw that the gift was three thick, blank journals tied together with string and a packet of ballpoint pens.

“Th… this is…” he whispered and drew his fingers across the covers.

“It’s so you can go back to writing! I’m not sure if that’s enough paper, but I think it should last you until next year when we can all get together again and I can bring more.” Medina stated proudly.

Ezra sobbed and pulled his friend to him for a tight hug.

“ _ Thank you!  _ You have  _ no idea  _ what this means to me!” he said through grateful tears.

“I’ve got  _ some  _ idea,” Medina chuckled. “I remembered last year how I promised to get you some paper and I’m a man of my word.”

“You are, dear boy. You really are,”

*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day’s celebrations passed quickly and soon everyone was ready to call it a night. Ezra and Crowley retired to their cave (the blonde carried in his new husband’s arms), studiously ignoring the jeers from Anathema, Medina, and Tracy.

“We may not have a Getaway Car but I can still be carried over the threshold, it seems,” Ezra giggled as they entered the nest.

“What’s a ‘car’?” Crowley asked and laid his mate down atop the pillows.

“It’s short for ‘horseless carriage’,” Ezra explained simply, pulling Crowley down to lay on top of him.

The redhead, however, was fascinated.

“So, wait… they move  _ without horses _ ?!” he exclaimed. “How is that possible?”

“It’s complicated. I can’t explain how, but they do,” Ezra said hastily and he gripped Crowley’s face to smash their mouths together so they could start their Wedding Night in earnest.

It was clear that Crowley still had a question or twelve about “cars”, but it was waylaid by the sight of Ezra shrugging out of his suit to bare his skin to his husband.

When the suit was gone, Crowley palmed at Ezra’s naked chest. Ezra gasped when a hand brushed over his nipples. Crowley took a moment to pinch at them, before raking his fingernails down Ezra’s front all the way to grip at his hips.

“What are you in the mood for tonight,  _ husssssband _ ?” Crowley asked. He licked his lips and eyed Ezra’s rapidly-filling cock.

“I… I want to try and take them  _ both  _ tonight. At once. At the same time,” Ezra said.

He spread his legs in blatant invitation.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Crowley asked, forcing down the  _ blistering  _ arousal he felt at his mate’s request. “I don’t want you to push yoursssself or get hurt.” He leaned down until he was nestled comfortably between Ezra’s thighs, pressed chest-to-chest.

“I… I  _ do  _ want them. Just… maybe we can go slow at first?” Ezra asked timidly.

“Of coursssse, angel. Tell if you want to stop and I will; no questions asked,” Crowley answered. He pressed a gentle, loving kiss to Ezra’s lips and they simply laid there for a bit, lazily exploring each other’s mouths. Eventually, the blonde began whining and wriggling, trying to get more friction on his cock. He could feel the thickness of Crowley’s hemipenes pinned between them. 

In answer to Ezra’s non-verbal neediness, Crowley rolled his hips and the sensation had Ezra throwing his head back and crying out.

Suddenly, however, the naga reared back, leaving Ezra feeling bereft of his touch. 

“Crowley? Why did you-?”

Ezra gasped when Crowley ducked back down to lick a hot stripe over his cock. The redhead sucked down just as abruptly and Ezra’s leg twitched. The smoothe feel of Crowley’s forked tongue and the heat of his mouth threatened to send Ezra over the edge  _ embarrassingly  _ fast.

“I- I can’t wait anymore!” he practically wept. “I need- need to be full of you  _ now _ ! Please, my love, I need-”

Crowley pulled away slowly, making sure to give one more kitten-lick to the tip. Ezra trembled from a heady concentration of pure  _ want. _

This was a dance they had done  _ countless  _ times together in the past year, and the steps were the same: berry, fingers, enter.  _ This time _ , however, there was a new factor that required caution and a bit of planning to ensure no pain on either of their parts. Like attempting a new, complicated step in a tango that would end in tears should it go wrong, they needed to proceed slowly.

Already, the head of Crowley’s first hemipene had penetrated Ezra’s prepared hole, but the second one remained outside, ready and waiting. Crowley trembled from the effort of holding himself back while Ezra shook from a combination of excitement and nerves.

“Are- are you  _ sure  _ you want thissss?” Crowley hissed.

Ezra bit down on his bottom lip and nodded frantically. The naga let out a puff of air like he’d been socked in the solar plexus and  _ slooooowly  _ pressed forward. 

The breach was  _ almost  _ too much.

Ezra, despite his anxiety to the contrary,  _ enjoyed  _ feeling stretched open. He liked the slight burn accompanied by the kiss of pain, but this was something new  _ entirely. _

Now the heads of  _ both  _ cocks were inside him and he let out a frantic little noise of protest, begging Crowley, without words, to hold on a moment.

“Are you al- alright, angel?” he growled, not with anger or frustration, but with concern.

Ezra screwed his eyes shut to stem the tears prickling at his eyes. “Y-yes, darling. Just… just give me a moment. It’s rather… it’s a lot.”

Crowley chuckled breathlessly, despite his worry, and took one of Ezra’s hands to kiss the back of it (he didn’t want to lean over to kiss his lips in fear of accidentally pressing further in). Ezra exhaled slowly, willing his body to relax to the sizable “intrusion”.

Finally, after several minutes spent evening out his breathing, he gestured for Crowley to continue. The naga pushed forward at a pace that would be considered  _ glacial  _ to a snail, but Ezra, surprisingly, kicked at his back with his heel.

“I’m used to it, now. You can- can go a  _ little  _ faster,” he urged.

“ _ Fuck  _ you’re amazing,” breathed Crowley and finally pressed  _ all  _ the way in until their pelvises were flush together.

Ezra’s mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled heavenwards for a split second before meeting Crowley's with laser-focused intensity.

“ _ More,” _

Crowley pulled back, then thrust properly this time and was rewarded with a wail like Ezra had just seen the face of  _ God Herself. _ The redhead was now free to lean over his mate, bracing his weight on his elbows so he could still stare down into that face he loved more than his own soul. Ezra’s hips began bucking without any conscious input from his higher faculties, as if he were running on pure instinct alone.

From that point on, everything else was a bit of a blur.

Ezra could feel Crowley fucking into him, wild with the need to  _ claim  _ and  _ take. _ He could hear the both of them groaning from the intensity of their love-making. He could taste Crowley’s tongue in his mouth.

Crowley himself had devolved beyond human speech and simply growled and snarled the entire time as he marked his mate with his scent and his bites. Ezra kept waiting for the dreaded moment where he’d see orange instead of yellow eyes, but it thankfully never came and the blonde was free to throw himself fully into their union. 

Ezra himself was not a lacklustre participant. He rolled his hips to meet every punishing thrust, he returned every kiss with a fiery intensity, and even did more than his own share of biting. He hadn’t even been paying attention to his neglected cock which sat trapped between their bodies. He suspected that it wouldn’t even matter soon.

“D-darling, I’m- almost- oh! Please! Faster! Faster!  _ Pleeaasse!” _

Crowley answered with a long, low hiss and obediently picked up his thrusts. Ezra managed to wiggle a hand between the two of them to wrap around his over-sensitized cock. One second later he came undone, clenching down on the thickness inside him.

Crowley’s hips stuttered as he peaked, filling up the body below him with more come than he’d thought himself capable of producing. Ezra reveled in the sensation, at the feel of his mate’s spend and the excess lubrication they’d used leaking out of his hole around Crowley’s rapidly softening hemipenes.

“Holy- that wassss…” Crowley pulled out and moved his sweat-slicked hair out of his own face. “Angel, you’re  _ incredible!  _ I love you sssso…”

He stopped talking when he saw that Ezra had gone completely limp and was laying there with his eyes half-lidded and chest pumping like a bellows, mouth wide open.

“A-angel? Are you alright? Oh  _ shit _ !  _ Angel!” _

Ezra made a little “gaahh” noise and then he managed to turn his head to look up at his husband. He smiled weakly, and a bit of the light came back to his eyes. He lifted his arms entreatingly and Crowley went without a moment’s hesitation.

“That was  _ magnificent _ , my love,” Ezra sighed, running his hands through Crowley’s hair. “I’m  _ so glad _ we decided to do that.”

“You ssscared me for a second,” the redhead pouted. “I thought I’d hurt you.”

Ezra chuckled. “No, my dearest, I’m just  _ very  _ well-fucked.” He smiled lazily and Crowley drew nonsense symbols on his chest with his pointer finger.

They laid together in silence for a time, neither of them wanting to get up and clean themselves off. Then Crowley said, “I love you, angel. Thank you for being my mate, and thank you for marrying me today.”

“ _ I’m  _ the one who should be thanking  _ you _ ,” Ezra insisted, and kissed him once. “You’ve given me  _ so much  _ this past year. I never thought I could be this happy. No matter what happens, I will  _ always  _ love you.”

*~*~*~*~*

In the dead of night, after Ezra had fallen asleep, Crowley stole out of their cave into the jungle beyond. He needed no light to see by, as his unnatural eyes allowed him to see just as well in the darkness as he did in the daylight. He had to move quickly, if he hoped to make it back to the nest before his husband awoke. 

He slithered through the trees, each of them bowing aside.

They knew the penalty for getting in his way.

Crowley arrived at The Place in record time.

He made sure to weave carefully between the bones that he’d had yet to bury. He didn’t want to risk another cut and subsequent infection. 

In a little area near the back, leaning against the lee of a large stone, sat a wooden chest Crowley had carved himself so many years ago. There were no hinges to be seen, but the heavy lid lifted easily enough with his formidable strength. He reached into the chest, digging through the contents.

He pulled out a book bound in cracked, green leather and gold letters and placed it aside.

It wasn’t what he was looking for.

He pulled out a pair of breeches, black leather boots, and a white, long-sleeved shirt stained with old blood down the front. He placed those aside too.

They weren’t what he was looking for either.

He produced a pouch a bit larger than his fist stuffed with gold coins and placed  _ that  _ aside as well. 

This was  _ also  _ not what he was looking for.

_ Finally _ he held up a weathered journal that was  _ just  _ small enough to conceal in the inner pocket of a coat. He flipped through the brittle pages until he came to a colored sketch of two men standing side-by-side, arms around each others’ shoulders in a brotherly side-hug. The man on the right, the taller of the two, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail grinned up at him through sienna-colored eyes.

“This will probably be the last time I ever speak to you, Edward,” Crowley said into the stillness of the night. “If you’ve got  _ anything  _ to say before I close this chapter of my life for good, now’s the chance to say it.”

Silence, as expected.

Crowley clapped the journal shut and flung it back into the chest. He buried it deep beneath the clothes and the pouch and the other book, before slamming the lid down. To him, it sounded like finality.

But it also sounded like a new beginning.

Crowley snuck back into his nest without Ezra even so much as stirring. As he cuddled his husband close to his chest, he mentally prepared himself for a conversation over the next few days that was  _ long  _ overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this nice chapter! It's the last nice one you'll have for a while...


	30. Blue Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra goes to pick some flowers and Crowley has some explaining to do...

Anathema sat on a folding chair on the beach, sipping a black coffee and nursing a mild hangover from the previous wedding-day festivities. A long, serpentine body nestled into its own coils beside her.

“So, how was the wedding night?” she asked Crowley.

“What do  _ you  _ think?”

“That good, huh?”

The two of them shared a laugh before Anathema asked him why he was spending time with  _ her  _ instead of his shiny new husband.

“He told me to go spend some time with you and the others. Said he was working on a belated wedding present for me and didn’t want me ‘ruining the surprise’,” Crowley answered nonchalantly with a shrug.

“Maybe it’s a terrible poem,” Anathema smiled cheekily. “Ez’s fiction is  _ phenomenal _ , but his poetry is awful.”

“I don’t care. I would  _ love  _ any poem he wrote,” Crowley protested in an attempt to defend his mate’s literary honor.

“You haven’t read any, then,” the occultist snarked.

Crowley was tempted to knock her drink out of her hands, but he knew he’d probably get bopped on the head with an empty mug for his troubles. Instead, he contented himself with updating Anathema on his potion-making progress and how he felt, in his opinion, that he was close to a breakthrough.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra cracked open his copy of  _ “The Picture of Dorian Gray” _ and shook it upside down. A veritable cornucopia of dried blue flowers fluttered out to the floor. He gave it another good jostle to free the rest of the blossoms before gathering them up into a tidy pile. There were plenty of flowers, but not  _ quite  _ enough for a decent amount of potpourri, which was what Ezra had been planning to present to his mate as a gift. Crowley did so  _ love  _ pleasant smells.

_ Oh… if only I knew where these grew, I could get more. Can’t risk  _ asking  _ him though, or he’ll figure it out... _

There was nothing for it, in that case. Ezra would simply have to search the jungle until he found more. A year ago, the thought of venturing deeper into the undergrowth would have  _ terrified  _ him. Now, however, Ezra knew where it was safe to explore as Crowley had taken him to see the very edges of his territory that the island predators avoided.

He dearly hoped he wouldn’t have to go any further than that. 

With the giddy determination of one entering a shopping mall to find a present for their spouse, Ezra set off for the outer reaches of Crowley’s territory, fully intending to comb every inch of the land if he had to.

*~*~*~*~*

After what felt like a small eternity wherein he began considering whether or not writing a heartfelt poem would make a better gift, Ezra spotted the first little blue flower standing out against the dark brown loam. He fished around in his pocket and held up the dried one he’d taken from the nest and was delighted to find that they were the same type!

He scurried over to pluck the flower and stuff it in his pocket, when he saw another one, just a yard away. A bit further, there were more, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading  _ out  _ of Crowley’s territory. Ezra shuffled on the spot, unsure if  _ flower picking  _ was a worthy enough cause to risk being potentially eaten by jungle predators.

_ I suppose there’s no danger in just going a  _ little  _ further. I’ll just have to be  _ extra  _ aware. _

He followed the path of the flowers, giggling to himself about how he felt like Hansel and Gretel. Despite his assertions that he would pay attention, he did not. He was so caught up in his personal quest, that he completely failed to notice the white, lumpy rock sticking out of the dirt until his shoe caught on it and he sprawled to the ground.

“What in  _ Heaven’s  _ name-?” he frowned.

He rolled onto his back to see what had tripped him up and his blood pressure spiked when he did. It was bleach-white, and slightly cracked. Ezra could  _ easily  _ have written it off as just a funny-shaped stone, but something  _ deeper _ , something  _ instinctual _ was screaming inside his head that it was  _ no rock. _ He crawled forward until he could wrap trembling fingers around the thing and wrench it out of the ground. 

The soil fell away, revealing a fractured  _ human pelvis. _

Ezra screamed and dropped it, wiping his hands on his shirt as if that would somehow erase the taint of it. 

Then he saw the rest of the bones.

As far as he could see, bits and pieces of human bodies protruded from the ground or simply rested in piles. There were several mounds of earth that, doubtless, concealed more of the macabre artifacts.

Ezra started to panic. His breaths whistled in and out between clenched teeth and he felt like he was right on the cusp of fainting.

_ Dear  _ God  _ in Heaven! Is this... is this a  _ mass grave _?! _

He stumbled backwards, not sure of where he was going so long as it was  _ anywhere  _ else! He ran and ran but, to his growing horror,  _ it didn’t end! _ He caught sight of a large stone and prayed that it marked the border of this nightmare.

At the last second, he stumbled over a snapped-in-half spinal column and went down again. He  _ would  _ have cracked his head against the stone were it not for the wooden chest that broke his fall. He landed hard atop it and the lid shifted from his weight. Ezra went to climb to his feet and continue running, when a gleam of gold caught his eye. 

Atop a pile of old clothes was a green book with gold filigree letters on the cover bearing the words,  _ “The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch _ ”. Ezra’s body went rigid as he recalled Anathema’s story of how her family’s most prized possession had been stolen from them in a pirate raid over 200 years ago when they attempted a cross-Atlantic voyage to The New World.

“It... it  _ can’t  _ be the same one...” Ezra lifted the book with shaky hands.

_ Only one way to find out... _

He flipped to a random page and read the written prophecy aloud.

“Prophecy Number 8618: In the year of one-seventy and eight, the Serpent shall meet the King of the Seas,” 

Ezra scrunched up his face. “Well  _ that  _ doesn’t tell me much.”

He turned to another page. “Prophecy Number 4794: When October moon is high, the Serpent shall enter his name and the King shall sail to meet his end of five-and-twenty wounds.”

Ezra growled and chose  _ another  _ page.

“Prophecy Number 9203: The Serpent, through thought, shall make of four others, the Girls of Gold,”

His eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment before shooting wide open.

_ Girls of Gold! That  _ has  _ to be referring to Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia! The numbers match up as well!  _

Ezra swallowed audibly. The proof was there; in his hands, he held the only known copy of _“The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch_ ”. 

_ But... but why is  _ this  _ here?! _

Ezra’s eyes landed on the final prophecy.

_ Prophecy Number 10,000: Beware, o’ foolish author! The Serpent shall soon be lost! Cogito, ergo sum. The man falls, but the angel rises. The Serpent falls, but the man rises. _

“‘L-lost’? Agnes, what do you mean by ‘lost’?! What’s going to happen to my husband?!” Ezra shouted, turning the book over as if there were a heretofore unnoticed prophecy lurking in the margins. 

When no “Prophecy Number 10,001: Everything will be okay” made itself apparent, he started digging through the chest for  _ something _ that could tell him more. He tossed out a pair of boots and breeches, as well as a blood-stained shirt that made him gag at the sight of it, and his hand closed around a leather pouch that clinked at his touch.

He untied the pouch’s tie and upturned the contents onto his palm. Several gold coins spilled into his hand. He caught one and held it close to his face to see better. The edges were jagged and uneven, with one side stamped with some kind of cross and the other bearing a coat-of-arms that was hard for him to make out.

Ezra crammed the coins back into the pouch and tossed it aside as well, before peering back into the chest. Only one item remained inside, and it was a small, leather-bound journal that had stood up remarkably well against the test of time.

_ Please let there be answers in here... _

He carefully peeled back the journal’s cover and turned to the first page. 

He gasped at what he saw.

On the paper, two figures stared up at him with their arms slung around each others’ shoulders. The one on the right was tall and lean with deep black hair tied back in a ponytail. His round eyes were a burnt umber color with just a hint of a mischievous, manic light to them. His grin was wide and toothy, with the shadow of a beard around it. Beneath the dark-haired man were two initials: E.T.

“Ed... Edward?” Ezra whispered.

The man on the left was slightly shorter than the one on the right, but not by much. Their hair was of equal length, and in the same style, but the left one’s was the color of a red hibiscus in bloom. The left man’s smile was a little less gregarious than his counterpart, but made up in charm what it lacked in vibrance. 

Ezra would know.

He’d been the recipient of his husband’s smile for over a year now, and had come to recognize it in every form it took.

Ezra traced a shaky hand over the redheaded man’s sketch, stopping when his fingertips came to rest right below a pair of  _ human  _ eyes the color of envy itself. Beside them on the blank space of the page were the initials: A.J.C.

“Crowley...” Ezra sobbed quietly as tears made their way, unnoticed, down his face.

*~*~*~*~*

On the beach, Crowley was basking in the sun with Anathema when he was suddenly seized by a strange premonition. He could hear the sounds of liquid dripping onto a cave floor, feel the phantom sensation of something warm and  _ alive _ popping under his coils, and could smell blood in the air. He jolted and looked around, but nothing had changed.

Anathema noticed his startle and turned to face him with concern in her eyes.

“Crowley? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

The naga furrowed his brow. “Can you hear that? Do you  _ smell  _ that?!”

“Hear and smell  _ what _ ?” Anathema asked. “You’re not making any sense, big guy.”

Crowley inhaled sharply when he realized what the feelings meant.

The island was trying to warn him about something, and it wasn’t anything  _ good _ .

He scrambled onto his tail and flew towards the jungle, leaving Anathema shouting after him, but he paid no heed to it. His mind was entirely consumed by the need to find and protect his mate from whatever it was that was coming.

*~*~*~*~*

Several of the journal’s pages had been ripped out, and the first intact one was simply a page titled, “The Last Will and Testament of Anthony J. Crowley”. 

“‘Anthony’...” Ezra rolled the name on his tongue. So Crowley  _ wasn’t  _ his first name, but his  _ last. _ Even through the maelstrom of confusion and turmoil, Ezra had to admit that his husband’s name was quite beautiful.

He continued reading.

_ I, Anthony J. Crowley, being of sound mind and body, on October 19th in the year of our Lord 1718, do hereby bequeath all my earthly possessions to no one. I have naught but the clothes on my back, my share of the loot, this journal, a pilfered book, and no one to leave it all to. The one person in my life who I thought I could trust just marooned me here and left me to die.  _

_ If anyone finds this Will, or my body, know that it was my brother-in-arms, Edward- _

The rest of the words cut off abruptly, trailing off with a stroke of charcoal to the edge of the page, as if the writer had suddenly keeled over mid-sentence. Ezra clapped a hand over his mouth as his tears fell to drip onto the paper. 

_ Oh  _ Crowley _... what  _ happened  _ to you? _

He turned the page and saw a new entry in the journal dated for the next day, October 20th 1718.

_ Well. This is a thing. I thought for sure I was dying yesterday. Seems it was something different entirely. I don’t know how to put this into words, but I’ve changed - and not for the better. It’s a fitting punishment, I suppose, for all that I’ve done. I was a monster then and I’m a monster now. I managed to keep the book from Edward and his cronies, however. Hopefully, he’ll come back to retrieve it once he’s realized what I’ve done, and then I’ll be able to pay him back in earnest for everything he’s done. _

Ezra flipped to the next entry. This one was dated for December, 1718, but no specific day of the month had been recorded. The sentences were shorter, clipped, and the handwriting had a messy cast to it.

_ It has been, I think, two months since Edward marooned me? He has not come back. Is he dead? Did the French finally catch him for stealing their slave ship? Or was it our countrymen, hunting him down like the dog he is? Is he still trying to find me? Let him come. _

The next entry had degraded even further. The only indication that time had passed was the year 1719 written in the upper corner of the page in an unsteady hand.

_ Im forgetting I cant stop it It has it been a year More I read this to remember my name but I am forgetting that too It is harder to read _

The final entry was scrawled on the page with so much  _ force  _ that the paper had torn slightly under the pressure.

**_mErCy_ **

Ezra gasped and flung the journal away from himself. It landed face-up, the sketch of Crowley and Edward smiling mockingly at him.

He curled up into a little ball, hands fisted into his curls and wetness staining his cheeks.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley burst into his nest with a cry of, “ _ Angel!” _

Silence.

He moved to go and check some of their other shared haunts when his tail bumped a book atop a pile and knocked it over, spilling out close to 50 tiny blue flowers. He squinted in confusion and picked one of them up.

_ Huh. These look like the flowers in That Place. Why would Ezra have them? _

Crowley thought back to all the times he’d gone to bury the dead in That Place, and how the flowers must have clung to his long hair. It still didn’t explain why Ezra was keeping them pressed for-

His thoughts ground to a screeching halt.

The surprise!

Crowley crushed the dried petal in a trembling fist. He had a terrible,  _ horrible  _ hunch that his mate must have gone in search of more of these flowers for his gift. Crowley needed to find him,  _ now _ !

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was fairly certain that he had no more tears to cry out, despite his body’s frustrating attempts to do so. He uncurled himself and spread his legs out on the grass. He steadfastly ignored it when his shoe tip kicked against a phalange that went rolling away.

_ I need to get out of here. I need to find my way back to the nest and talk to Crowley. How  _ long  _ has he been suffering like this in silence? _

He climbed unsteadily to his feet and swayed a bit once he was upright. The adrenaline had mostly worn off, leaving him feeling hollow and scraped out.

“Angel?”

His head snapped up and he locked eyes with Crowley from across the bone-strewn clearing. The naga’s chest was heaving frantically and his eyes were wild. 

He held out an imploring hand, beckoning for Ezra to come closer. “P-please, angel. Come with me. This... this is a bad place.”

Ezra opened his mouth to say something - he wasn’t sure what. He wanted to comfort his obviously terrified mate. He wanted to demand why there were so many  _ human remains  _ scattered about like confetti from a party cannon. He wanted to sob about how badly he just wanted to go  _ home,  _ to their  _ nest. _

Instead, he choked out, “Anthony?”

Crowley reared back, visibly stunned. His eyes flickered down to the opened journal on the ground.

“So... you read that, did you?” he breathed.

“You  _ do  _ remember your name,” Ezra whispered and took a step forward. “How? The... the second-to-last entry... you said you were forgetting.”

Crowley’s eyes shone with unshed tears. He mirrored Ezra’s slow movement forward.

“It was  _ you _ , angel,” he came closer. “Being with you... observing you... spending time with you...  _ loving  _ you...” He took a shuddering breath. “I learned how to be human again.”

Ezra looked to his husband’s heartbroken expression, at the sketch of who Crowley  _ used  _ to be, then back at him again.

“You said that, as a wedding present to me, you’d tell me  _ everything  _ about yourself,” he began slowly, and took both of Crowley’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs along the knuckles. “I know that... this is  _ probably  _ not how you wanted it to go, but...” Ezra suddenly wept, clinging to the other’s chest. “...you’ve been  _ alone  _ for so long and shouldering this pain all by yourself!  _ Please,  _ my love! My  _ darling _ ! Let  _ me  _ take some of the burden now!  _ Talk to me _ !”

Crowley clutched Ezra as fiercely as he dared to without cracking the human’s ribs. He was  _ terrified  _ now that the moment was here, but somehow, despite it all, hope flared to life in his chest. It was but a mere candle in a long, dark hallway, but it was more than he’d ever felt about the topic before.

He pulled away enough to wipe a tear from Ezra’s cheek.

“I was born in Bristol, England, in 1690,” Crowley began. His voice was stronger than he thought it’d be, and the rest of the words flowed easily, like they’d been waiting for the right moment to come out of hiding. “Never knew my parents. I was raised in an orphanage there until I turned sixteen. As soon as I did, I was tossed out onto the streets without so much as a by your leave. I found some work at the docks as a dockhand, but it wasn’t enough to live off of, so I took to pickpocketing and petty thievery. I was damn good at it too, never once got caught. Everything changed, however, when I met... him.”

*~*~*~*~*

**Bristol, 1708**

Anthony crept up closer on his mark. It was a nobleman, a decade his senior, whose back was foolishly turned as he conversed with a street vendor. In one swift, undetectable motion honed from two years of thieving, Anthony slipped his dagger under the string tying the nobleman’s pouch to his belt and cut it. The purse dropped soundlessly into his hand and he strolled off with his gaze fixed ahead as if he’d simply been strolling past without a care in the world.

The redhead rounded a narrow alley corner and ducked behind an old fish barrel to count out his spoils. 

“Really? Only 40 shillings? You’d think a guy dressed like that would have more,” he groused.

“In my defense, I’m  _ really  _ bad with money,”

Anthony shrieked at the sight of the nobleman looming over him and stumbled into the barrel, knocking it over and sending pungent fish guts spilling out into the alley. A door nearby banged open and a furious voice shouted, “What’s going on over there?!”

The darker-haired man seized Anthony’s wrist in a grip that was  _ surprisingly  _ strong for his narrow frame and sprinted down the alley, coattails billowing behind him like a flag.

“Waitwaitwait! Where are we going?” Anthony struggled to keep up with the older man.

“Anywhere that’s not here!”

The two of them continued running until they came out the other side and were able to blend into the crowd. The nobleman leaned against a storefront to catch his breath and Anthony yanked his hand away.

“If you think I’m going to let you drag me to the constable, you’ve got another thing coming!” he snarled, emerald eyes flashing.

The nobleman lifted a confused gaze. “What? No! No! I’m not going to have you  _ arrested _ , friend! I want you to  _ teach me _ !”

Anthony’s defensive posture slackened, just a little. 

“You want me to  _ teach you _ ? You mean like... how to pickpocket?” he sneered, still very much suspicious.

The nobleman nodded his head eagerly. “Yes! I’ll make it worth your while! You can keep what little I have in my purse, and I can pay you more in addition to that!”

Anthony narrowed his eyes.

“How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?” he asked. “How do I know you won’t sick the constabulary on me the moment I let my guard down?”

“You don’t,” the nobleman replied with a careless shrug. “But isn’t the money worth the risk? Besides, I have no doubt you’d be able to wiggle your way out of any arrest attempts.”

“True,”

The redhead let the tension bleed from his shoulders and he stuck out a hand. “Anthony. Pleasure to be working with you, Mister...?”

The nobleman took the offered hand with a wide grin.

“Edward.”


	31. Edward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tells his story of how he first came to the island...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for mentions of rape. Nothing happens, it's merely a discussion about awful deeds that pirates commit, but be aware that it IS mentioned.

**Present Day**

“Are you alright, angel?” Crowley asked.

Ezra blinked numbly.

“I… I’m fine, dearest,” he answered after a minute. “I’m just still coming to grips with the knowledge that you used to be  _ human _ .”

Crowley chuckled bitterly and took Ezra’s hand to lead him out of That Place. The blonde went without an ounce of protest.

“Oh, angel, I lost my humanity  _ long  _ before I lost my legs…”

*~*~*~*~*

**Bristol, 1709**

Anthony was working at the docks, breaking apart empty crates, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He smiled for a split second before schooling his expression into exasperation, “You’ve  _ got  _ to be kidding me.”

He turned to see his friend Edward standing there, arms outstretched and dressed in the Royal Blue of the British Navy.

“Ant! Look who’s back in town! Fresh from the colonies!” the brunette laughed.

Anthony gave a half-hearted groan of protest, but went to his friend’s arms in a fraternal embrace.

“How was it all the way in Newfoundland?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing…” Edward took off his hat to fiddle with the straw brim. “...but we lost St. John’s.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Anthony slugged his friend’s arm. “The French are nothing if not fickle. I’m sure they’ll either lose interest and leave or you’ll take it back without so much as a single hair out of place.”

The two of them shared a mocking laugh, then Edward slipped his cap back on.

“Listen, Ant, I’ve been doing some thinking…”

“ _ That  _ can’t be good,”

“Oh hush, you terror,” Edward chided. “I was thinking that, maybe, you would consider joining the Navy as well.”

Anthony blinked in surprise.

“‘Join the navy’? Like… as a cabin boy?” he asked.

“No, no, nothing so  _ lowbrow _ ,” Edward scoffed with a wave of his hand. “I meant: join the Navy as a  _ privateer _ ! I have some connections, so I could get us enlisted on the same ship. With the war in the colonies not looking like it’s going to end anytime soon, there’s no shortage of French ships just  _ ripe  _ for the - fully government-sanctioned, I assure you - plundering!”

“I don’t know, Ed…” Anthony looked away. “I’ve got a pretty good thing going here.”

“Buh- wha-  _ ‘good thing’ _ ?!” Edward sputtered and swept his arm out. “You’re sleeping on a warehouse floor and making a pittance! Why put up with such  _ squalid  _ conditions, when you could have so much  _ more _ ?!”

“I don’t need ‘more’,” Anthony protested, turning back to his work on the crates. “I have enough to eat, and a roof over my head. I don’t really want more out of life than that.”

“Are you sure? Are you  _ really _ sure?” Edward’s voice took on a wheedling, almost tempting quality. “You can’t  _ honestly  _ be happy living like that! What about adventure? Romance?  _ Excitement _ ? You  _ really  _ want to spend the rest of your life slaving away on the docks without ever leaving the city you were born in when there’s so much  _ more  _ out there!”

Anthony felt his eyes drift to the sea. The port was clogged with incoming and outbound ships, but beyond them all he could see the thin line where the dark blue of the water met the lighter blue of the sky. He closed his eyes and imagined, just for a moment, that he wasn’t a poor orphan. He imagined that he was a rugged explorer, visiting foreign coasts and engaging in thrilling, heated battles to defend his country’s honor. He could  _ feel  _ the pitch and roll of some nameless ship’s deck beneath his feet and then he realized that he was only swaying in place.

The illusion fell away, and he was a tramp once more.

He looked back to the horizon, and it felt closer to him than it  _ ever  _ had before. His eyes, glittering with faint excitement, met Edward’s.

*~*~*~*~*

During the time Crowley was telling his story, he and Ezra had made it back to more familiar territory. 

“Did you take him up on his offer?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah,” Crowley smiled faintly at the memory. “Edward was true to his word and we ended up serving together on the same privateering vessel until the conflict in the colonies ended.”

“How long did being an officer last?”

“I served Queen Anne for four years,”

*~*~*~*~*

**Bristol, 1713**

Anthony staggered down the gangplank onto the docks, a canvas bag of what little possessions he owned slung over his shoulder. As soon as he was back on solid ground, he dropped to his hands and knees and began kissing the dirt.

“ _ Oh sweet dry land!  _ It’s over! It’s finally over!” he wept and Edward, following close behind, rolled his eyes.

“Get up, Ant! For pity’s sake, have some decorum! You don’t know  _ where  _ that ground’s been!”

“I’ll tell you where it  _ hasn’t  _ been…” Anthony snapped. “ _ Thousands of miles out in the open  _ fucking  _ ocean!” _

The two men glared at each other, then burst into relieved laughter. Edward seized Anthony by the back of his coat and hoisted him back up.

“Come on, Ant. Let’s find a pub. I think we’ve earned a celebratory drink for our valour in battle!” 

“Right, right, ‘valour in battle’. Tell me, Ed, what part of ‘valour’ includes straddling a cannon while drunkenly belting out sea shanties and getting us shackled to scullery duty for a week?” Anthony teased.

“The  _ best  _ part!” Edward answered with a broad-palmed clap to the redhead’s shoulder. “Now that the war’s over, I was considering settling down in New Providence.”

“‘New Providence’?!” Anthony sneered. “That place is… it’s a  _ mess!  _ Pirates and transients and- and-”

“And that’s the  _ point!”  _ the older man emphasized. “It’s  _ exciting!  _ There’s always some new merchant schooner or other coming into town, so I doubt work will be hard to come by. Besides, I’ve enough of my family’s money and the earnings I’ve made from privateering to retire  _ today  _ if I wanted.”

Anthony felt something catch in his throat. The thought of his friend, his  _ best friend _ , and battle-brother of four years leaving him behind to pursue a life of excitement in a new land without him had something  _ painful  _ scraping at the inside of his ribcage.

“I… I suppose this is ‘goodbye’, then,” He held out an overly-stiff hand. “Don’t be a stranger, and be sure to write me from time to time.”

Edward stared at Anthony’s hand as if it were about to bite him.

“‘Goodbye’? Where are you going?” He looked confused.

“Wha- _me?!_ _You’re_ the one leaving, Ed!”

Edward cocked his head, then a look of chagrin came over his face. “Ah! Damn me for a fool! I suppose I should have led with  _ this  _ first, but…” he pushed Anthony’s hand away. “I was hoping you would come  _ with  _ me!”

Now it was the younger man’s turn to look puzzled. “Go with you? Why?”

Edward spread his arms wide. “‘ _ Why’ _ ?! Because you’re my brother in all but name, Ant! I don’t want to go where you can’t follow.”

Anthony felt like he’d had the wind punched out of him (Which he  _ had  _ in the past. Several times). The word “brother” rolled over and over in his head. He’d never had a family before, much less one of  _ choice _ .

“You… you really mean that,” he breathed.

Edward groaned and threw his head back. “Lord,  _ save me  _ from this boy’s dramatics!  _ Yes _ , Ant, I mean it. I want you to come to New Providence with me, and we can-”

Anthony silenced him with a crushing hug that actually managed to lift the taller man slightly off his feet.

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley and Ezra passed over the threshold of their cave and into the nest proper.

“I’m starting to see why you value family so much,” Ezra rubbed at his husband’s arm in a gesture he hoped was soothing.

“Yeah,” Crowley admitted. “‘S why you mean  _ everything  _ to me, angel.”

The two of them shared a tender kiss before he continued his story.

*~*~*~*~*

**New Providence, 1716**

Anthony sat at the bar and nursed a half-empty bottle of swill in his fingers. Edward had wanted to meet up with him to discuss something important, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the older man in well over an hour. He was just about to pay his tab and go track down his wayward friend, when the tavern doors swung open and Edward came sashaying in, two women hanging off his arms like they were  _ made  _ for it.

“About  _ bloody time  _ you showed up! I was moments away from leaving this  _ fine establishment _ ,” Anthony lifted his bottle to the bartender who sneered at him.

“Oh lighten up, Ant,” Edward rolled his eyes. “If you  _ must know _ , I was late because I… made some friends! Look, I even brought one for you!”

Anthony eyed the women up; not appreciatively, or hungrily, more of an inspecting glance. The one on Edward’s right arm had shoulder-length brown hair and plump lips. The other one had red hair just a shade darker than his own tied up in a bun, with friendly blue eyes that crinkled up in the corners.

“Thanks, but they’re not my type. You know I like blondes,” he said, before turning back to his drink.

“Who’s this? Your little rent-boy?” the woman on the right mocked.

“Ha! He wishes!” Edward cackled.

Anthony finished off the rest of his sub-par drink and said, “You  _ drastically  _ overestimate your own attractiveness, Ed. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

The woman on the left tittered, and Edward muttered something under his breath that sounded like a petulant, “Traitor”. He then sent the two women to order whatever they liked, on him, and then slid into a stool beside Anthony.

“Listen, Ant, I’ve got a  _ great  _ idea!” he whispered.

“A ‘great idea’, huh? Like the time you managed to convince  _ everybody in town  _ that I was a Changeling and I ended up almost burned at the stake? Or the time you got drunk, stripped yourself naked, covered yourself  _ entirely  _ in honey, and then rolled in an ant hill because you thought you could make fire ant armor? Or the time you brought those twins back to our house for some ‘fun’ and they ended up stealing all of our left shoes and  _ nothing else _ ? Or the time when-”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Edward silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “I have a few dumb ideas from time to time, but I’ve got a  _ really  _ good feeling about this one!”

Anthony arched a single, unimpressed eyebrow and Edward took it as a sign to remove his hand and explain.

“I met up with a fellow named Benjamin. He’s looking for some help on his ship, but it won’t be strictly…  _ legal  _ help,”

Anthony narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What, like… smuggling?”

Edward twiddled his thumbs, more nervous than Anthony had ever seen him before. “Not… necessarily. It would be more of the… ‘plunder’ variety of work.”

Anthony’s forest-green eyes shot wide open.

“ _ Pirates _ ?!” he hissed angrily. “Have you lost your  _ mind _ ?!”

Edward, the bastard, had the gall to look outraged.

“What’s with all the fuss? You haven’t exactly lived a virtuous life yourself, you know,” he pointed out. “And besides, we’ve raided ships before as privateers. What makes this any different?”

“I don’t give two shits about right and wrong!” Anthony slammed his hand on the bar, rattling his empty bottle from the force of it. “When we served the crown, we had  _ legal protection.  _ If we run off to start pirating with that Benjamin guy, we’d be  _ hanged  _ if we were caught! What’s with this sudden reckless bravado - moreso than usual, I mean?”

Edward groaned. “Because it’s been  _ three years  _ since we came here and things have gotten  _ boring _ !”

“Better boring than  _ dead _ !” Anthony snapped back.

Their argument had escalated in volume, and now several tavern patrons were eyeing them angrily. In New Providence, discussions of piracy were nothing new, but rarely did these discussions reach decibels loud enough to ruin a perfectly good afternoon spent getting drunk. Both men noticed the stares, and quieted down. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look, Ant, the simple fact of the matter is that life here has gotten stale for me. I thought retirement was what I  _ wanted _ , but I was obviously wrong,” He sighed again. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay? I just thought you might enjoy getting back out there and seeing the world again, this time with complete freedom. No drills, no dress inspections, no quartermaster barking at you…”

Anthony knew he was being tempted. He knew that  _ Edward  _ knew how to temp him, no matter how nonchalant the other man pretended to be about it.

And damn him, it was working.

Truly, Anthony could not care a whit less about whether piracy was wrong or not. In his experience, the only difference between privateering and pirating was that one was legally-sanctioned and the other was not. He knew better than anybody else that legality was not a standard for morality.

No, his hesitation stemmed from the  _ legitimate concern  _ that he and Edward would be captured, brought back to England in fetters, and hanged for their crimes before a jeering crowd. The thought  _ alone  _ was enough to send fingers of ice down his spine, but…

He didn’t want his best friend to leave him behind.

He didn’t want Edward to have to face such a grisly fate alone, should the worst come to pass.

Anthony exhaled and flicked his empty bottle. It fell on its side and rolled to the edge of the counter before coming to a stop.

“Alright, I’m in,” he said with a brave smile. “Though, I’m only doing this because, if you get captured, I need to be there to bust you out of prison. You’ve always been shit at that.”

Edward smiled excitedly.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra sank to the pile of cushions in his nest with a soft gasp. His husband’s eyes were downcast as he scratched nervously at a patch of scales that had cropped up the back of his hand and along the length of the attached arm.

“Crowley, you…” his breath shuddered. “...you were a pirate.”

The redhead opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and opened it again. “I was… for two years, and then I was marooned here.”

Ezra didn’t know what to think. Pirates  _ and  _ privateers were hardly any different; both stole, pillaged, raped, and  _ murdered.  _ How much of that had his husband partaken in? How many lives had ended at his hands? Ezra didn’t want to imagine it, but…

How could he  _ not _ ?

“Crowley… what…” His words caught in his throat for a moment. “What all did you do?”

Ezra was scared. He wasn’t sure if he  _ wanted  _ an answer. He wished he could go back in time to that morning and shake his naive, younger self and scream at him to  _ not  _ follow the blue flowers.

Crowley seemed to sense the trepidation in his mate’s words and flinched a little.

“We… Edward and I, that issss… we captured merchant ships; ransomed the crew, and ki- killed all those who resisted. We raided their cargo to sell on the black market,” He sobbed. “ _ Pleasssse  _ believe me, angel, I took  _ no joy  _ from it!”

Ezra’s eyes were like steel as he asked, “What  _ else  _ did you do?”

The naga’s face fell in confusion, then he let out a low moan of despair as the human’s words sank in.

“Angel,  _ no _ , I- I  _ never-  _ I even  _ sssstopped  _ my crew from… from forcing themselves on the prisoners,” he choked. “I would threaten to throw them overboard if they harmed - in  _ any  _ way - the onessss who surrendered.”

Ezra relaxed marginally, but he was still shaken from Crowley’s admission. However, one thought lingered at the back of his mind, then immediately clawed its way to the forefront.

“ _ Your  _ crew? I thought you and Edward worked for  _ Benjamin _ ,”

“We did, until he retired a year after we joined up. Edward and I were hissss second-in-commands, but then he left us in charge of an old sloop of his and we continued on our own. From there, we built our own crew and reigned as co-captains,”

*~*~*~*~*

**Saint Vincent, 1717**

Anthony kicked frustratedly at the sloop’s mast which wobbled threateningly under the force of the blow. He scrambled to steady it.

“ _ Hell’s-Bells _ , Ed! This floating piece of shit is gonna kill us one of these days, you mark my words!” he grumbled.

Edward, however, paid him no mind. The man was peering off into the distance through a spyglass with his mouth pursed in concentration.

“Oi! Ed! Didja hear me?”

“Mhm…”

Anthony stomped over and snatched the spyglass away to peer through it himself.

“Just what in the Nine Circles of Hell are you  _ staring at _ ?” he muttered, annoyed.

In the distance, a large ship bobbed among the waves, bearing the flag of a French merchant company. He made a noise of consideration, and felt Edward nudge him with an elbow.

“I  _ did  _ hear you, you know,” the brunette grinned. “You’ve got a point, this old thing  _ is  _ falling apart. What do you say we… go get ourselves an upgrade?”

Anthony passed his friend back the spyglass. “I’d say, you read my mind, you sonofabitch. I’m gonna lower our flag and put up a merchant one. Maybe we’ll get lucky and be able to get close enough before they figure us out.”

Saying so, the younger man sprang forward to climb up the rickety mast with the practiced agility of one who’s done this countless times before. Upon reaching the top, he started undoing the ties that pinned the flag in place. He carefully took it into his hands and held it up in front of his eyes. It wasn’t a bad design, in his opinion.

“Can’t go wrong with an all black background,” Anthony mumbled to himself, sliding down the rail. “‘S got  _ everything,  _ it does. A skeleton, a bleeding heart, a spear… really what more could you  _ want _ ? And Edward thought my design was  _ stupid…” _

*~*~*~*~*

“There’s something I don’t understand…” Ezra interrupted. “If you hated piracy so much, why stick around? Couldn’t you have taken your share of the treasure and left? Started over somewhere else?”

Crowley ran a scale-covered hand through his hair. “It wassssn’t that  _ simple _ , angel. Even if I  _ wanted  _ to leave, which I  _ did _ , I  _ couldn’t _ ! I’d already committed  _ countless  _ acts of piracy while working for Benjamin. If I left, Edward could’ve tracked me down to kill me to make sure I don’t offer him up in exchange for my pardon, or I could have ended up captured before I ever made it to shore! And I… I didn’t want to leave Edward. Towards the end of it, he started to  _ change.  _ He became more ruthless, more  _ brutal _ . I don’t know if it was the lifestyle that corrupted him, or if that darkness was always there from the start and just lurking under the surface, but either way, I thought I could… I thought I could  _ save him _ somehow.”

The redhead lurched forward and seized one of Ezra’s hands in his own. It was  _ cold _ ! Colder than it had  _ ever  _ been. “Believe me, angel, I  _ never  _ participated in the killing! I made sure to  _ wound _ , not kill! I hurt sssome people pretty badly, but all for the sake of convincing them to surrender!”

“Oh,  _ Crowley _ ,” sniffled Ezra.

He moved to cup his husband’s cheek, but Crowley pulled away, eyes downcast. “It doesssn’t matter, anyway. I was still  _ complicit _ . Everything came to a head, though, when our crew singled out a small transport ship headed to the colonies.”

“Is that how you came to possess Agnes Nutter’s book?” Ezra asked gently.

Crowley nodded sadly.

“Yessss. Edward had heard a rumor that a very rare and very  _ important  _ book was being carried on that transport. I’m not entirely sure if he believed the rumors about the prophecies being infallible, but he knew it was valuable. So we attacked the ship,”

*~*~*~*~*

**Somewhere in the South Atlantic, off the coast of an Unnamed Island, October 19th 1718**

Capturing the transport was almost laughably easy. Anthony had expected a fight,  _ some  _ kind of token resistance, but everyone onboard had immediately surrendered and were now kneeling on the deck, arms tied behind their backs. Inwardly, Anthony was pleased, though he tried not to show it on his face. Nobody would be harmed, they could take the book, and then release the prisoners back-

He was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of a vicious backhand and a woman howling in pain as she tumbled to the floor.

“Ligur! What the  _ fuck  _ did you just do?!” Anthony snarled, stomping forward.

The pirate just gave him a disinterested sneer. “This bitch spat on my boots as I walked by. I  _ had  _ to make sure she didn’t make that mistake twice.”

The woman was dazed, but still mercifully conscious. Despite knowing it didn’t look good in the eyes of his crew, Anthony kneeled down beside her to help her sit back up.

“That is  _ not  _ how we treat prisoners,” he growled. “I should hang you from the crow’s nest by your  _ thumbs _ !”

Ligur rolled his eyes. “What does it matter? This whole capture has been  _ boring _ ! I was hoping for at least  _ some  _ kind of defense, but all I got was a bunch of snivelling cowards who don’t know how to put up a  _ proper  _ fight.”

His dark eyes narrowed at the sight of a small child, no older than ten, attempting to wriggle out of his bonds. He marched over and seized the child by the hair, yanking him upright as he cried in pain. Anthony was up in an instant.

“Don’t you  _ fucking dare-” _

Ligur interrupted him. “I mean… who’s to say that they  _ didn’t  _ fight back? Maybe they  _ did  _ and a few unfortunate souls were lost in the melee… like this one here.”

The boy started sobbing and pleading for his life.

Anthony saw red.

In one quick motion he crossed the deck, snatched the child away, drew his pistol, placed it to Ligur’s forehead, and pulled the trigger. The pirate was dead before he even hit the floor and everyone on deck erupted into screams and shouts. Edward, who had been below deck, came barreling up with a shout of, “What’s going on up here?!”

Hastur, the ship’s lookout, just kept shrieking and pointing between Ligur’s corpse and Anthony, bloodied and holding a smoking gun. Edward’s jaw dropped for half a second, then his expression became downright  _ murderous. _

“Anthony… what the  _ fuck  _ did you do?!”

“What I  _ had to _ , Ed!”

Anthony tossed aside his pistol, unable to stand looking at it. “Your First Mate was being insubordinate. He assaulted a prisoner, and I took action.”

Edward steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, then took a breath.

“Anthony… meet me in our quarters. We need to discuss this,” he turned to the rest of the crew, who stood frozen in shock. “Somebody clean that up!”

Anthony didn’t bother to stick around and find out who the unlocky sod was who’d be forced to mop Ligur’s brains off the deck. He tromped down the stairs into the ship’s hull and entered the Captains’ Cabin. As he did so, he spotted the book that had started all this mess, lying open on the table in their room.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do so, but he snatched it and concealed it inside his loose shirt, right next to where he kept his journal. Perhaps it was an omen of things to come, or perhaps it was simple spite.

He’d just managed to tie his shirt back up when the cabin door opened ominously and Edward loomed in the doorway. His face was impassive, and he beckoned for Anthony to follow. The redhead did, and the two of them came back on deck just in time to see a sobbing Hastur roll his friend’s corpse over the railing and into the sea.

Anthony couldn’t work up the will to care.

Edward led him to the side of the boat, where a small dingy was dangling above the open water, waiting for them.

“Get in,” the other captain commanded, monotone. 

Anthony laid a hand on his cutlass. “Why?”

Faster than he could blink, Edward whipped out his own gun and pressed it against his breastbone.

“I said: Get. In,”

Anthony swallowed and raised his hands above his head as he slowly climbed into the dingy. Edward watched him with cold, unfeeling eyes. Suddenly, the dingy gave a lurch and dropped straight down into the sea. The fall was swift, but sudden, and Anthony nearly toppled out.

“What the-?!  _ Ed!!  _ What the  _ Hell  _ are you doing?!” he shouted upwards after he reoriented himself.

A pouch of coins sailed over the railing to smack him in the head. Edward’s vicious, jeering face loomed over the side.

“There’s your cut from this raid! Hope you enjoy it!” he cackled.

“Wha-? Ed? Ed?!”

To Anthony’s horror, the anchor to his and Edward’s ship raised out of the water and the sails unfurled. He could only watch helplessly as his friend started sailing it away from him.

He was being  _ marooned! _

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go!” he cried.

He was met with only hoots and hollers from the rest of the crew. Anthony cast his eyes around the dingy and spotted a pair of oars. He snatched them up and began frantically rowing in a last-ditch attempt to catch up with his crew.

“Please, please, please! Don’t! I’ll do anything! I’m  _ sorry! Edward!!” _

The ship was getting farther and farther away, the wind carrying it better than his flagging muscle strength could.

“Edward!  _ Edward _ ! Don’t leave me here! No!  _ Edward!!” _

Anthony stood up and stumbled to the end of the dingy and shouted his pleas as loud as he could, but everyone else was already too far gone to hear him anymore. He sank to his knees.

And screamed.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was openly weeping, hands fisted over his mouth.

“Oh… oh, my  _ dearest _ ,” he whispered.

Crowley scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Yeah, it… it wassss pretty painful. That’s how I found this island. It was close enough for me to row ashore within a few hours. I waited for a bit, halfway expecting Edward to come back and tell me it was all a very mean way of teaching me a lesson.”

“I… I read your Will,” Ezra said sorrowfully. “You expected to die here, didn’t you?”

Crowley nodded. His fangs had grown and were now poking out past the bottom of his lip as he chewed on it.

“I did. I wasss ready for it, too. I’d spent so many years hurting other people that I felt it was a just punishment. I even failed to save my best friend from himself. As I was writing, I thought to myself, ‘Dying alone on a deserted island. What a fitting reward for a monster like me’. That’s when…  _ it  _ happened,” he closed his eyes against the memory. “My body became wracked with a burning pain, like every inch was consumed in flames. It was quick, but I lost consciousness. When I woke up the next morning… I looked like this.”

Ezra gasped.

“Darling,  _ what  _ did I tell you? You are  _ not  _ a monster!” He crawled forward on his hands and knees to get closer to his husband, but Crowley hadn’t opened his eyes or raised his head. “Yes, you made some bad decisions, but like you said, you had no choice! And even if you  _ did  _ have a choice, it  _ still  _ wouldn’t matter! For God’s sake, you’ve been  _ alone  _ here for more than 300 years! Whatever crimes you committed as a pirate have  _ long since  _ been repaid! You’ve suffered  _ enough!” _

Crowley’s shoulders started quaking and, at first, Ezra thought he was crying. Then, he heard the sounds of manic, wheezing giggles that morphed rapidly into full-on insane cackles.

**_“Oh, angel…”_ **

The naga lifted his eyes and Ezra whimpered at the sight of crazed orange staring back at him.

**_“I’ve done SO MUCH more than you know...”_ **


	32. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The serpent shall soon be lost..." -Agnes Nutter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see Crowley's story reflected in the chapters "The Doomed Colonies" and "Recovery". Now would ALSO be a good time to look at Ezra's premonition when he saw the first blue flower in "Discussions", and the one Crowley had in "Blue Flower"...

Ezra stared into orange-colored eyes that gazed back, unblinking. He lifted a cautious, shaking hand to Crowley’s face.

“C- come back to me, my love,” he said softly. “Don’t go where I can’t-”

Crowley’s hand shot out and seized Ezra’s wrist, keeping it from touching him. The grip was firm, but not painful; meant to hold him in place.

The naga snarled.  **_“Oh no, angel. You wanted to hear it all, so you’re GETTING it all!”_ **

Ezra tried to lift his free hand, but that one was summarily caught as well, leaving him unable to comfort his husband with a gentle, loving touch that he so  _ desperately  _ needed.

“Crowley,  _ please _ , this isn’t you! You need to take a break to calm down, or you’re going to  _ hurt yourself _ !” he begged.

Crowley leaned forward and hissed,  **_“You weren’t the first human to come to my shores…”_ **

*~*~*~*~*

_ It had felt like years since Anthony underwent his metamorphosis into Crowley. He’d abandoned his first name (monsters didn’t deserve first names), found himself some sisters, and even managed to build somewhat of a life for himself far from Edward’s influence.  _

_ It was oddly peaceful. _

_ Then, a Spanish galleon ran aground on his beach. Crowley had observed them from a distance, and listened to their frustrated conversations. _

_ “Dammit! It’ll take us days to collect enough lumber for repairs!” _

_ “Yeah, but at least the hole in the hull isn’t too bad. Anything worse, and we might have been stranded,” _

_ Crowley listened to the sailors talking amongst themselves with rapt attention, grateful that he had learned Spanish shortly after becoming a privateer. He peered through the trees up at the flag waving from the mast of the beached ship. It didn’t look like a pirate flag, and appeared to be flying the royal colors. _

_ Naval officers! _

_ In hindsight, it was pretty foolish what he did next. It had just been so long since he’d seen a human… _

_ “H-hello? Not hurt! Name Crowley and-” _

_ All of the sailors immediately started screaming. One of them drew a pistol and fired, but the scales on his tail instantly spread to cover his chest and the bullet ricocheted off harmlessly.  _

_ “Please! Listen! I-” _

_ Another one ran forward, drawing a sabre, and slashed it across his chest. It scraped against his body, sending up sparks, but didn’t otherwise harm him. Panicked, worried, and overwhelmed, Crowley swung his tail at his attacker. _

_ He only meant to knock him off balance, not turn the poor man into a fine red paste smeared across the sand… _

*~*~*~*~*

**_“I killed them ALL. Then, I carried their bodiesssss to the place you found and left them there. When that wassss done, I punched holes into the hull of their Galleon and shoved it back out to sea to sink,”_ ** Crowley snarled.

“Th-that wasn’t your fault!” Ezra objected. “You were just  _ lonely  _ and they attacked first so you were  _ well  _ within your rights to defend yourself!”

Crowley’s eyes flickered gold and, for a brief moment, Ezra was  _ sure  _ he’d gotten through to him. Then the orange returned.

**_“It doesssn’t matter. I never should have revealed myssself in the first place, or they would still be ALIVE!”_ ** The naga suddenly sighed, and Ezra felt the hands around his wrists loosen a fraction.  **_“I learned my lessssssson from there on, and stayed out of sight when the NEXT group of people arrived.”_ **

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley watched these settlers from high up in a tree. More Spanish had come to his island, but this time he kept himself hidden; kept himself safe. _ _ He expected them to leave after they first came ashore, but, to his horror, he realized that they were building houses! They called their settlement “Ovejero”. _

_ They were planning on staying! _

_ Crowley squeezed his eyes shut to block out the memory of how it had felt to crush bones and tear flesh with his new, monstrous body as a weapon. He wanted to avoid a repeat if at all possible, and set about making sure these settlers would want to leave. _

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley had completely relinquished his hold on Ezra, and was now sitting back on his tail, though his eyes remained steadfastly orange.

**_“I sssssnuck into their warehouses at night and destroyed their supplies. When they planted more cropssss, I ordered the plants to not grow. After a time, the ssssssettlers ran out of food, and returned to Spain,”_ ** the naga sighed.

“A-ha!” Ezra jabbed a triumphant finger at him. “You restrained yourself! You could have hurt them, but you  _ didn’t _ ! You got them to leave without an  _ ounce  _ of bloodshed! See? You  _ aren’t _ a monster!”

Crowley actually managed to give him a weak smile. His eyes flashed gold for one moment.  **_“I’m jusssst glad I never got caught. The sssecond time a settlement cropped up, I never even got the CHANCE to run them off. They ran out of money and had to go back to France.”_ **

Ezra barked out a laugh and Crowley’s smile widened just a tiny bit, and then immediately fell.

**_“More people came, after that,”_ ** he continued.  **_“But I don’t feel ANY remorsssse for what I did to THEM.”_ **

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley crashed through the undergrowth towards the sounds of Sophia’s distressed rattling. He found her, Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche huddled together beneath a shrub. He crouched down as low to the ground as he could go, and held out his hands to them. _

_ “What wrong?”  _

_ All four of them slithered into the light and Crowley felt rage boil up in his blood, hot and potent. Each of them bore various cuts and bruises, and the tip of Rose’s tail didn’t wiggle as it should when she moved, like it was broken. _

_ “Who. Did. This?” he growled. _

_ Blanche pointed with her tail towards the north. Crowley scented the air with his tongue. The smell was faint, but he could pick up the telltale stink of human clinging to the air.  _

_ He patted Blanche’s head. “Will fix.” _

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley stared down at his hands, as if he could still see the blood that had long since been washed away.

**_“It wasss Dorothy who begged me not to kill them all. I couldn’t let the human sssettlement get away with hurting my family, so I butchered their livestock, destroyed their crops, and killed any of them foolish enough to venture out into the jungle at night while my sisters hunted. Eventually, the colony they called ‘Phillips’ was abandoned,”_ **

Admittedly, Ezra struggled to justify his husband’s actions; but he could sympathize.

“I’m sorry that those  _ awful  _ people hurt your sisters. You were just trying to protect them,” he said honestly, and Crowley swallowed the venom that had started leaking from his fangs in his anger.

**_“The Spanish came back and built a fort after that,”_ ** The naga stared ahead with fathomless, orange eyes.  **_“I killed all but one of them, and burned the place to the ground. My only regret was that one got away…”_ **

*~*~*~*~*

_ In the dark of the night, Crowley circled the wall surrounding Fort San Eduardo. He placed a hand against it. As he sat there, debating how to go about driving this latest batch of humans away, a cacophony of vicious laughter pierced the night from the other side of the wall. He waited until it died down, but it never did, and seemed to actually pick up in intensity. _

_ Crowley made to sneak back into the jungle and enact his plans once the crowd of laughing humans dispersed, but then a voice, louder than the others proclaimed, “The little bitch won’t stop twitching, will he?” _

_ The naga’s body stiffened and, before he was even consciously aware of doing so, he scaled the walls and looked over the top. A group of soldiers, almost the entire fort, were standing around the downed body of a man - just a boy, really - and kicking at it as it jerked and spasmed.  _

_ Crowley recognized the one on the ground. He’d come with the rest of the soldiers to help build the fort, and had been the youngest of all the other men there.  _

_ At present, he lay bleeding on the ground from a grisly head wound, his body shuddering in weak jolts as the light faded from his eyes. Crowley didn’t know what the boy had done to warrant being beaten to death, but it mattered little as he gave one more lurch and then finally died. _

_ The naga howled in fury at the sight and clawed his way over the wall towards the murderous soldiers. _

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley lifted his eyes to Ezra, expecting to see fear on his mate’s face, but the blonde’s expression was hard. Ezra seized Crowley’s face in both hands and his gaze  _ burned  _ with blue fire.

“They got what they deserved,”

**_“The next settlement didn’t…”_ **

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley screamed and hammered his fists on the ground as Santa Victoria burned behind him.  _

_ He hadn’t wanted the blaze to get so out of control! _

_ All he’d wanted was to burn some crop fields, but it had been a dry season - unusual for his island - and the fire had spread to the rest of the settlement faster than Crowley could have predicted. The agonized screams of people burned to death, trapped in their homes, echoed long into the night until the inferno died down. _

*~*~*~*~*

“It was an  _ accident,  _ Crowley!” Ezra was desperate to make his husband understand. “You never  _ meant  _ to hurt those people!”

**_“Intentionssss don’t MATTER when LIVES ARE LOST, angel!”_ ** Crowley snapped.

Ezra fell silent.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley swore to himself that he wouldn’t destroy fields with fire anymore. He focused, instead, on using previous tactics of livestock killing (Rose always looked forward to enjoying the meat from those hunts), supply thieving, and crop intimidation. It took longer than he would have liked, but his patience was rewarded when the people of Saint Alcest packed up and left with little fuss. _

*~*~*~*~*

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but for whatever it’s worth…” Ezra patted Crowley’s hand. “...I’m proud of you. You learned from your mistake, and did better the second time around.”

He was met with a spark of gold that was quickly crushed beneath the return of orange.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley was prepared to go through the usual song-and-dance to drive away the settlers of Mathieu-Royal, but all that plans of subterfuge fled from his mind when he saw just who was building the town. _

_ Slaves, at least six of them.  _

_ They looked different from the ones that Crowley had liberated with Edward when they captured a French slave ship all those years ago to convert to their flagship, but their tattered clothes and sallow frames marked them as such. _

_ They looked to be right on the brink of death, and Crowley, reluctantly, retreated to his cave to begin strategizing how best to free them from their captors without revealing himself.  _

_ When he returned, days later, he was too late to do anything but seek bloody retribution for their deaths. _

*~*~*~*~*

“If you expect me to be upset that you punished slave-owners for their heinous crimes, I’m afraid you’ll have to be disappointed, my love,” Ezra said, arms folded across his chest. “Those horrible people deserved their fates, and  _ more _ .”

**_“That’sss not the point. I wasss too late, and six innocent people died because of me,”_ ** Crowley said softly, and full of regret.

“It’s  _ not your fault _ !” Ezra objected, but his husband didn’t appear to believe him.

**_“There wasss one more attempt by humans to colonize my island. How fitting that they were my own countrymen, and how ironic that this final time ended the sssssame way the first one did,”_ ** Crowley sighed.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Crowley had been so, so careful! Or at least, he thought so. He’d waited until the Houghton hunting party had ventured into the surrounding jungle to look for game, then attempted to sneak into the town’s storehouses to destroy their supplies as per the usual. _

_ He hadn’t expected a woman to be there, taking some last minute stock.  _

_ Crowley moved to try and sneak back out, but she heard the sounds of his scales across the floor, turned and saw him, and began screaming for help. He fled the building, but the alarm had been raised and he was once again fighting for his life and his home. _

_ It wasn’t much of a struggle, admittedly, because all the men with guns had left. _

*~*~*~*~*

**_“I took the bodies and put them in That Place. When the hunters came back, and found Houghton empty, they loft shortly thereafter. That wassss the last time humans ever came to this island,”_ ** Crowley hung his head, ashamed.  **_“Until you, that issss.”_ **

The silence in their nest was deafening, and the naga screwed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ezra’s hateful expression when he realized just how much of a  _ monster  _ he’d married.

He was startled, then, when he felt a pair of gentle,  _ loving  _ hands caress his face and two soft lips press against his fang-filled mouth.

“Thank you, dearest, for telling me everything,”

Crowley’s head snapped up and he found himself face-to-face with Ezra’s heartbroken expression. It took him a moment, and then he realized that Ezra was hurting  _ for  _ him, not  _ because  _ of him. 

Crowley was stunned.  **_“You- angel- I… I KILLED people. I was a PIRATE and a MONSTER! HOW are you- WHY are you-?”_ **

Ezra frowned and pinched the naga’s cheek.

“I will  _ not  _ have you saying such  _ terrible  _ things about my mate and husband!”

**_“B-but-”_ **

“‘But’  _ nothing!” _ the blonde snapped. “Did you do bad things? Maybe! I can’t really say, because I wasn’t  _ there _ ! You are  _ not  _ a monster, Crowley! You’re a  _ good man  _ who has been hurting so much for so long, completely  _ alone _ ! Whatever crimes you’ve committed have  _ long since  _ been atoned for! And even if they weren’t, I- God damn me if She must, but I  _ don’t care _ !”

Crowley reared back, shocked into silence.

Dare he hope?

He held out a hand, covered in gleaming ebony scales, towards his mate. Instead of flinching away from the hands that delivered so much death and destruction, Ezra let his cheek rest against it and he sighed happily. 

**_“Angel… I don’t… I don’t deserve you-”_ **

That thought slammed into Crowley so hard that it almost had a physical  _ weight.  _

He  _ didn’t  _ deserve Ezra.

He was a murderer, a thief, a  _ threat _ …

A  _ monster! _

Crowley suddenly threw himself backwards across the room with a scream of agony as a horrifically familiar burning pain scorched across every nerve in his body. He howled and clawed at the scales covering his body, trying to get them  _ off _ and get to the burning underneath to  _ stop it  _ somehow! He couldn’t hear his mate’s frantic attempts to soothe him over his own shrieks.

“Crowley? What’s happening?  _ Crowley?!” _

**_“S-STAY BACK, ANGEL! I CAN’T-”_ ** Crowley’s breath was bursting in and out of his chest, even as the pain died out as fast as it came.  **_“I’M A MONSSSSSTER, CAN’T YOU SSSEE?! I’LL HURT YOU TOO, JUSSST LIKE I DID EVERYONE ELSSSSSE! YOU NEED TO LEAVE, GET AS FAR AWAY FROM THISSSS WRETCHED PLACE AS YOU CAN!”_ **

His voice had dropped half an octave and was undercut with rumbling growls. Ezra stomped his foot.

“ _ I will  _ not!” He took a step closer, and Crowley somehow managed to press himself further against the wall. “I will  _ not  _ leave you to deal with this alone! I  _ love  _ you, Crowley, more than  _ anything  _ else! You will  _ never  _ hurt me!”

Crowley covered his face with his hands and screamed loud enough to rattle the ceiling. Why wasn’t Ezra  _ leaving _ ?! Why did he look at him with such  _ love _ ?! It wasn’t  _ right!  _ Ezra should be running! 

_ Why  _ wasn’t he running?!

Something touched his coils and Crowley snapped.

He roared and lashed out with his tail.

He had half of a second to catch a glimpse of Ezra’s startled face, before the blonde was slammed against the wall so hard that the stone cracked beneath the force of his body and the blow.

The blow that Crowley dealt.

Ezra felt something  _ deep  _ inside him rupture and all of his breath was forced out of his body in a spray of red that painted the cave floor. Crowley screamed and yanked his tail away and Ezra pitched forward to land on his front, in a puddle of his own blood.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t  _ think! _

He opened his mouth to try and take in some more air, but his diaphragm refused to expand and another trickle of blood rolled out to join the pool on the floor. Despite it all, some instinct deep inside his soul compelled him to reach out to his husband.

“C-Cro…”

Crowley was still wailing, his orange eyes so wide that they looked like they were about to pop out of his skull to roll across the floor like marbles. 

**_“NO!! ANGEL! ANGEL!!”_ **

Ezra’s hand went limp and Crowley didn’t catch it. The naga clawed at his own face, gouging red lines through the scales from the strength of his grief as he sobbed and shrieked.

_ Come on, Ezra! You may very well be dying, but that’s no excuse to laze about! Get UP!! _

The blonde managed to finally suppress the pain in his body long enough to push himself up onto his hands and knees, though the blood all over the floor made it a little slippery.

_ Oh that’s… that’s quite messy, that. _

He managed to suck in enough air to keep himself from passing out (though  _ whatever  _ it was inside his body that was ruined protested  _ vehemently) _ and shuffled forward, inch by steady inch, to where Crowley curled in the corner, weeping and trembling.

“‘S… ‘s okay, my- my love. We’ll be-”

There came a blur of scales and Crowley suddenly disappeared. Ezra saw the end of a black tail vanish around the corner and out of their nest. He wanted to call out for Crowley to come back, but all that came out was a wheezy, “Oh, sh- sh-  _ sugar _ !”


	33. The Man Falls...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra sets out to save Crowley!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for mild body horror near the end.

Crowley crashed through the undergrowth, his mind slipping away more and more with every second that ticked by. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he had to get  _ away _ ! There was something there, though, nagging at the back of his mind. 

Something important…

He… he remembered how it felt the first time, to have his memories as a human leave and have instinct replace them. It wasn’t a good feeling, but it was one he recognized.

Why was this happening now?

What had happened?

He remembered… he remembered shouting and pain. 

His tail hitting something.

But what  _ was  _ it?!

More memories slipped away.

_ A memory of his first day on the island, before his transformation, whereupon he found four snakes and, bored and isolated, gave them names and ascribed personalities to them, then screamed when they spoke to him and thanked him for doing so. _

Gone like so much smoke.

_ A memory of getting so angry at his abandonment that he unloaded all his hate and frustration onto an innocent fern that bloomed extra flowers in an attempt to make him feel better. _

That disappeared too.

_ A memory of his time spent in the navy, serving alongside Edward, being taught a special prayer used to honor the deceased for a burial at sea. _

Vanished into the ether.

_ Another memory of Edward, this time a good one, sharing a bottle of rum - their favorite drink - in the parlor of their home and shaking the roof with a ribald shanty that they just made up the words to as they went along. _

Gone, as if it had never been there to begin with.

_ A memory of sparring on the sand. He’d gotten so caught up in the parry-thrust-slash of using a stick like a cutlass, that he’d forgotten he wasn’t on a pirate ship anymore and pantomimed slitting Ezra’s throat… _

Ezra!

Crowley froze in his tracks.  _ How  _ could he have forgotten his  _ mate _ ?! His mate who he  _ hurt  _ and was likely  _ bleeding to death  _ inside their nest! How could he-

The naga seized the sides of his face with both hands and howled into the jungle from the violating feel of his memories of Ezra slipping away one by one.

_ The first time he saw sky-blue eyes gazing up at the stars on his island with wonder… _

_ The first time he got to hold Ezra in his arms… _

_ The first kiss they shared, taught as a lesson he had long forgotten... _

_ The joy he felt when Ezra finally agreed to be his mate… _

_ The first time they made love, and all the times after... _

_ The pain of betrayal when it was revealed to be a ruse… _

_ The incandescent happiness when Ezra chose him over returning to his home… _

_ The terror when he saw Ezra stumble over the falls… _

_ The guilt of lying to Ezra for so long, and the fear that he would lose him… _

_ The first time he met his mate’s family, and came to love them as his own… _

_ The bright love of their wedding… _

_ All of it, every last sensation and memory… _

Gone.

He dropped to the ground with a scream, his nails gouging lines in the dirt.

And the last of Crowley burned away.

*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, did you guys hear that?” Anathema asked, hitting the volleyball over the net and beaning Gabriel in the face, who didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah… it sounded like a scream…” the younger Fell brother murmured, picking the ball back up.

Beside him, Medina looked back towards the jungle. “It almost sounded like…”

“Crowley!” Newt finished from where he stood next to Anathema, covered head-to-toe in sunscreen.

The four of them shared a nervous glance amongst themselves, and then over to Tracy and Shadwell, who looked just as concerned.

Medina made the first move. “I’m going to go check it out. The big guy might be hurt.”

“I’m coming with you,” Anathema said.

“Yeah, me too. If Crowley  _ is  _ hurt, Ezra might need help with him,” Gabriel agreed, following after the other two. 

Newt, always one to tag along with whatever it was Anathema was doing, caught up to walk beside her.

“Ah’m comin’ too. I’d wager it’s Mr. Fell practicin’ his witchcraft on the great, scaly beastie,” Shadwell said quickly.

His wife chided him for thinking such terrible things about their dear Ezra, but toddled faithfully after to check him and Crowley.

*~*~*~*~*

_ Alright, old boy, deep breaths. In and out. _

Ezra winced in pain when he tried to do so.

_ Never mind, then. Regular breaths. In and out. _

This time the pain was less so, but still horribly present.

_ I suppose it will have to do. Up you get, we need to find Crowley. This isn’t his fault. He didn’t know what he was doing. You should have been more careful, now GET UP! _

Ezra, with  _ great  _ effort, managed to brace his hand against the wall and claw his way to his feet. Every breath felt like torture, and he could feel numbness starting to creep throughout his body. It would have been a welcome relief, had it not brought with it such an uncomfortable sensation of  _ heat  _ from somewhere inside him. The words “internal bleeding” sprang to mind, but he chose to ignore them for the time being.

His first, and really  _ only _ , priority was finding Crowley and bringing him back from wherever the darkness of his mind had taken him. He took a shaky, shuddering step forward, then another, and was soon managing a decent hobble.

“S-see? Noth… oh Heavens… nothing to it!” he gasped, and willed himself to remain conscious against the darkness creeping up on his vision.

One foot in front of the other.

_ Just like that lovely little Christmas movie… such weird puppets though… _

Ezra staggered out of the cave, blood trailing on the wall behind him and dripping from his lips. The first thing he saw when exiting, instead of his beloved’s face, were four snakes, staring at him with concern.

Sophia noticed the red staining his front and rattled her tail, clearly distressed. 

Ezra gave her a wobbly smile. “I’m alr… well, no. I’m not alright. F-fairly certain I’m dying.”

All four of Crowley’s sisters broke out in frantic hisses and rattles. Blanche darted forward and sunk her teeth into his shoe tip (thankfully missing his toes) and tried to tug him towards the beach, where rescue no doubt would be.

Ezra waved his hand weakly. “N-no… don’t… it’s…” He took a shuddering breath. “I’ll be f-fine.  _ Crowley  _ needs us right now. I think he’s… in terrible danger.”

If he closed his eyes, he could see Agnes Nutter’s final prophecy as if it were tattooed on the inside of his lids, “ _ Beware, o’ foolish author! The Serpent shall soon be lost! Cogito, ergo sum. The man falls, but the angel rises. The Serpent falls, but the man rises.” _

“Th-there was a book. It… it said that Crowley will soon be lost to us if I don’t… if I don’t  _ do  _ something! P-please, ladies, c-can you t-t-take me to him? T-track him down or something?”

Blanche looked back to her sisters. Dorothy was hyperventilating, and Sophia was no better. Rose slithered forward and nodded to Ezra. Her tongue darted out a few times before she managed to lock onto her brother’s scent. She began a slow, forward crawl to the north to allow Ezra to keep up.

“Th- _ thank you _ , Rose. We- we have to hurry, before it’s too late!” the human thanked her, and shuffled after her.

Blanche still clung to his shoe, pulling him forward as best she could, with Sophia and Dorothy nudging him from behind.

The entire time, Ezra mentally chewed on Agnes’s words. 

_ Cogito, ergo sum. “I think, therefore I am”. What does it mean? What does Descartes have anything to do with- _

A thought took shape in Ezra’s mind, as the missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place with the sound of a gavel dropping. So many interactions, so much of Crowley’s story, was thrown into such sharp relief that the blonde felt momentarily staggered by the weight of his realization.

He knew what he had to do to save Crowley.

*~*~*~*~*

Medina was the first to burst into the cave with a shout of, “Fell! Crowley!”

The words died on his lips when he spotted the long, smeared line of blood along the cave wall and the spatters of it across the ground. He staggered backwards against Gabriel’s broad chest, who kept him upright.

“Whoa, whoa! Carlos, what…” Gabriel’s sentence guttered out like a candle flame. “...happened here?”

Anathema shoved past the two men to run into the nest. “Ez! Crowley! Are you guys okay?!”

She gasped at the sight of the cracked wall, and the puddle of blood at the base of it.

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Newt breathed.

“We- we have to find them!” Gabriel stammered. He turned Medina to face him. “Carlos, you’ve been tracking down missing and injured people for  _ years _ ! We need you to-”

“I’m on it. I can’t- I  _ won’t  _ lose them!” Medina shrugged out of Gabriel’s hold and breezed past Shadwell, who was comforting a fretting Tracy.

The S&R captain kneeled down outside the mouth of the cave and inspected the dirt, looking for more blood drops or footprints. He didn’t have to look too hard. The dark red droplets stood out against the surrounding greenery and dragging footsteps made a noticeable furrow (along with four smaller ones) into the dirt. Crowley didn’t have any feet to  _ make  _ prints with, so they had to belong to Ezra. Unfortunately, that also meant that all the blood most likely belonged to him. Medina covered his mouth to keep himself from vomiting at the mental image of Ezra bleeding out from a gruesome wound, and shouted back towards the cave, “I found Fell’s tracks! He went north! Come on, he’s injured!”

“What about Mr. Crowley?” asked Tracy, twisting her hands. “Any sign of him?”

“No. We’ll hopefully find him as we go, but Fell’s the priority right now,” Medina replied, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to betray how scared he really felt.

There was  _ so much blood _ ! If Ezra was still alive by the time they found him, Medina would chalk it up to being thanks to nothing short of a miracle. 

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra would have collapsed at least twice, were it not for Rose pausing every so often to use her large body to prop him back upright. 

“ _ Please  _ tell me we’re close,” he groaned.

A deep, predatory growl was his answer.

All four of Crowley’s sisters hissed with fright and ducked behind Ezra, who swayed on the spot for a moment as he waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass. He blinked his eyes to clear the fog from them.

What he saw sent a spike of adrenaline to his heart that jolted him fully awake better than any espresso shot could.

Crowley was curled up in the glade ahead, but it wasn’t  _ him. _

Not anymore.

The creature that had once been his husband was  _ massive _ . 

10 meters of muscular body thicker than twice the width of Ezra’s torso looped and coiled around itself leading to a huge, serpentine head that could  _ easily  _ unhinge its jaw and swallow the human down without an iota of effort. Black feathers, as dark as the surrounding scales, sprouted from his neck like a lion’s mane, giving Crowley the appearance of a hellish bastardization of Quetzalcoatl.

Large, blood-red eyes bored into Ezra.

In them, the human beheld no trace of recognition.

“No… no…  _ Crowley _ ,” Ezra sobbed. 

He staggered forward, but the beast reared up and roared at him, exposing a mouth full of dragon-like teeth. Ezra stopped walking and held up his arms in a placating gesture. He’d learned his lesson about approaching a “feral” Crowley the first time and did  _ not  _ want a repeat.

The giant serpent closed his mouth and tucked his head closer to his body, still wary. Ezra moved forward again, his hands held out slightly at an angle, like he was trying to calm a wild animal - which, technically, Crowley was at the moment.

“It’s  _ me,  _ dearest, remember? Ezra? Your angel? Your husband? Your mate?”

He took another shaky step closer to Crowley who, thankfully, didn’t bite or otherwise harm him. Crowley just hunched further in on himself, like  _ Ezra  _ was the fearsome predator. Ezra was now close enough that, if he wanted to, he could reach out and rest a palm against a snout that was bigger than his entire head. Instead, he held his hand to Crowley’s face, palm up.

“C-can you s-smell me? Smell yours- yourself? It’s  _ both  _ of us!” 

A thick, black tongue covered in saliva that was near  _ scalding  _ in its temperature slid out from between Crowley’s fangs and wrapped around Ezra’s wrist, scenting it. The human repressed a shudder of revulsion as it pulled away, retreating back into the nightmarish maw. Crowley rumbled.

“S-see, darling? It’s me. Oh! What about…” Ezra yanked down the blood-soaked collar of his shirt to reveal his Mating Mark. “Look! It’s your venom! You- you Marked me when… when you made me your mate…”

Crowley’s pupils were thin gashes, but they dilated at the sight of the dark brown Mark against Ezra’s pale flesh. Taking a chance, and  _ praying _ it was one that bore fruit, Ezra moved forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with his husband. The snake’s eyes never left his and, as a show of trust and submission, Ezra let his own slip shut as he rested his forehead against Crowley’s titanic snout.

“Please, m-my love… don’t go where I can’t follow,” he sighed.

Ezra waited a moment.

Then another.

After several seconds, when nothing appeared to happen, he opened his eyes again.

Deep, clotted red stared back at him.

Ezra’s breath hitched in a sob. “No, no,  _ no _ ,  _ Crowley _ …”

His tears stung as they spilled from his eyes.

He was too late.

Crowley was gone.

Ezra wept freely, not even caring that his heaving breaths made his body hurt more. He’d failed. He’d lost his husband.

“Ez!”

“Ezra!”

“Fell!!”

Crowley flinched back and his mouth curled up in a threatening snarl. Ezra whirled around as quickly as he could and shielded his husband with his battered body.

“W-wait! No! Stay back!” he exclaimed.

The other humans stopped at the edge of the clearing, staring in horror at the terrifying tableau before them.

“Is that Crowley?” Newt asked nervously.

Shadwell cursed something in Gaelic and Tracy clung to his arm. Medina looked Ezra up and down, trying to locate his injury as Anathema struggled to hold Gabriel back from running to his brother.

“Fell… what happened? What’s going on?” the captain’s face crumpled in unabashed worry.

Ezra glanced over his shoulder at Crowley, who was tensed as if preparing to strike. “S… something happened. I… I lost him,” his shoulders slumped. “He’s gone.”

The assembled humans gasped. All save for Medina, whose eyes took on a steel-edged glint. “No! I  _ refuse  _ to believe that! Crowley would  _ never  _ leave us! Would never leave  _ you!  _ He’s  _ still in there,  _ Fell! You  _ just  _ need to bring him out!”

“I… I  _ can’t _ ,”

“Yes, you  _ can!”  _ Gabriel barked, breaking free of Anathema’s hold and brushing past Medina to stand in front of the crowd. “If  _ anyone  _ can bring our newest family member back, it’s  _ you, _ Sunshine!”

Ezra gingerly wrapped his arms around himself, ignoring the clenching, crushing pain in his torso, and the feel of the heat in his body bleeding out into the air around him. He thought back over the countless tales he had told Crowley: Cupid and Psyche, Theodora and Justinian, Achilles and Patroclus, Beauty and her Beast.

_ “Stories where the lovers end up together, now matter how different they are…” _

Ezra could practically  _ hear  _ Crowley’s gentle voice in his ear, asking to live through stories what he feared he would never get in reality.

_ I can’t give up on him, because he wouldn’t give up on ME! _

Ezra swallowed the blood that had started to dribble down his chin, and turned to face his husband - for that’s what he  _ was _ \- once more.

“Crowley, I don’t know if you can hear me. Frankly, I don’t care,” Crowley startled, but didn’t attack, as Ezra suddenly seized his massive face in two hands. “But I  _ swear _ , even if you  _ never  _ return to me… if this is  _ all  _ I ever get from you, I will love you  _ regardless _ . Forever,” He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to a scaled snout. “ _ Forever _ , my love…”

Crowley froze.

He held so still, that Ezra briefly wondered if he might have gone catatonic.

Then, he blinked.

**_“A… ANGEL?”_ **

His voice was little more than a thunderous snarl, but it was unmistakably  _ him _ ! Ezra laughed, and kissed his nose again.

“Oh, my love!  _ My darling! _ ” he wept.

Crowley suddenly stiffened again, this time letting out a bone-deep groan of agony.  **_“A-ANGEL! GET AWAY! IT’SSS HAPPENING AGAIN! I’M- I’M FORGETTING! I’M FADING! I-!”_ **

_ “NO!” _ Ezra tightened his grip. “Crowley, listen to me! I’ve figured it out! Agnes Nutter! I figured it all out! ‘I think, therefore I am!’ This- this  _ island  _ is the one who transformed you! It… I don’t know how to explain it, but- it  _ makes people’s will a reality!”  _ The words spilled out of him faster and faster, and he started to grow dizzy (dizzier) from not taking in enough air before speaking. “You saw yourself as a monster, so you  _ became  _ one! You imagined individual personalities on your sisters, so they  _ grew one _ ! You- you were convinced that shouting at plants made them grow better, and they  _ did!  _ It’s  _ you _ , Crowley!”

Crowley started trembling with the exertion from trying to keep ahold of his memories.  **_“BUT… BUT HOW DO I…? WHY DIDN’T YOU-?”_ **

“I didn’t change because I  _ know  _ who I am,” the blonde whispered. “I know that I’m Ezra Fell: Novelist, Human,  _ Your Husband, Your Mate _ . I never wanted to  _ be  _ anything else.”

Crowley blinked rapidly, and, against all known laws of biology, tears that steamed began rolling down his face.

**_“HOW DO I… HOW DO I SSSTOP THISSSSS?”_ **

Ezra smiled and stumbled forward to bury his face in the feathers of his mate’s mane.

“Regain your humanity, my love,” he breathed. “Forgive and love  _ yourself _ .”

Ezra closed his eyes and let the comforting scent of his husband wash over him.

Then, slowly, the body beneath him began to change. 

Crowley grunted as his entire form shrunk down. The feathers and scales disappeared beneath his skin and his head flattened into a distinctly more human shape. Gorgeous, strawberry-colored hair erupted from the top of his head to cascade down his bare back as his torso split into arms, hands, and fingers.

The transformation continued further, however, as Ezra watched on. What had once been a tail split clean down the middle into a pair of long and shapely (if slightly knobby) legs. Crowley’s eyes snapped open like he’d been electrocuted, revealing beloved gold and slitted pupils that no longer covered the entire sclera, but were now confined to the iris alone. He opened his mouth in a gasp and the fork of his tongue fused together, and his fangs shrunk into human-like canines.

When the change was complete, Crowley stood there on unsteady legs that he had almost completely forgotten how to use. Apart from the eyes, and a small patch of scales on the top of each foot, he looked completely human. He gaped down at his legs, disbelieving.

“I’m… I…” he stammered.

“ _ Crowley!”  _ Ezra gasped, eyes shining.

The redhead held out his arms nervously. “I, uh… I don’t seem to have any pants…”

“ _ Fuck the pants!” _ Ezra shrieked happily, and moved to embrace his husband.

Something, however, lurched in his chest.

It felt like his heart.

Ezra choked and a gush of blood poured forth from his parted lips. The adrenaline had now worn off and he could feel every ruined inch of his body as he pitched forward. Crowley, despite his shakiness on his new legs, caught him and lowered him to the ground.

“Angel!  _ Angel!!” _

“C- Crow…”

Ezra tried to take a breath, but only inhaled more blood which he coughed back up in black chunks. “I- I can’t…”

“For  _ Somebody’s sssssake _ , help me!” Crowley screamed.

Instantly Medina and Anathema were at Ezra’s side, checking his pulse and listening to his fading heartbeat as his body gave a feeble twitch.

“C-Crowley- I-”

“Sssh, ssh! Don’t talk, angel,  _ please _ !” the redhead wept, cradling him close. “It’ssss gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay! We’re gonna take care of you, and-”

Ezra managed to wrap a weak hand around his husband’s bicep and give it a faint squeeze. “Crowley,  _ listen to me _ !” he gurgled.

Crowley’s bottom lip wobbled as he nodded. Ezra took a wheezing breath.

“ _ Forgive yourself.  _ Don’t- don’t blame yourself for this and- and-  _ don’t go back to that dark place inside your mind _ !  _ Swear  _ it to me!” he begged.

“F-forgive myself? Why? You- you’re gonna be  _ fine!  _ You’re my  _ angel _ ! Angels don’t- they don’t-” Crowley hid his face in Ezra’s neck and sobbed once.

Anathema and Medina shared a heartbroken, devastated glance and backed away. They knew the internal damage was too great. Gabriel had sunk to his knees, almost bringing Newt down with him who hid his face in his hands. Shadwell was trying to keep a brave face, but even his shoulders quaked and Tracy clung to him as she cried bitterly. Crowley’s sisters all huddled in a lump together, watching the spectacle unfold in silence.

“I- I  _ love you _ , Crowley.  _ F-forever _ …”

“No! You  _ can’t go _ !” Crowley snapped. His face was soaked in tears. “You’re my mate! My husssband!  _ My angel!” _

He titled his head back and let out a broken, grating wail. Ezra chuckled weakly, as he felt the last beats of his damaged heart give their final tattoo.

“I… I  _ am  _ your angel, aren’t I?” he whispered.

Crowley was beyond words, and could only nod. Ezra hummed and closed his eyes.

_ An angel. I like the sound of that. I’m Crowley’s angel… _

And the human breathed his last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Points to the tags* I promse I didn't forget anything.


	34. ...And the Angel Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angel rises.

_“An angel. I like the sound of that. I’m Crowley’s angel…”_

_And the human breathed his last._

*~*~*~*~*

Then the _angel_ breathed his first.

Ezra’s powder-blue eyes shot open as he sucked in the first full gasp he’d been able to take since being injured. Crowley made a desperate, confused sound and held him close as the blonde took several more steadying breaths, the injuries inside his body repairing themselves.

“H-holy _shit_ , angel! You- wha-?!” His frightened yellow eyes seemed unable to stay still as they darted over his form. “I… I felt you _die!_ How did you-?”

Ezra held up a shaky finger and wheezed, “I just… give me a mo’.”

He scrunched up his face in concentration, then a pair of iridescent wings covered in white feathers burst from his back, shredding his shirt as they went. Everyone gathered let out various cries of shock, save for Crowley, who only stared open-mouthed.

Ezra wiggled his shoulders, testing the weight of his new appendages, before winching them back in with a thought. 

“Oh! They look _just_ like I thought they would!” he smiled.

“Ang- huh- bwah- ngk!” Crowley stammered, still staring at the spot where his mate’s wings ( _fucking wings!!_ ) had just been.

Ezra ceased his stutters with a gentle kiss to his slack mouth.

“It seems I wasn’t _quite_ as certain about who I was as I thought,” he smiled placidly.

“But… _how_?! You… you…”

It seemed Crowley still hadn’t quite caught on and Ezra rolled his eyes fondly. He caressed the redhead’s face.

“Oh, you silly serpent,” he tutted. “I’m your _angel_ , remember?”

Crowley blinked slowly, then realization dawned just as beautifully as its namesake.

“You’re… my _angel_ ,” he responded breathlessly, before crushing Ezra to his chest in a fierce hug. “ _My angel!”_

“My Crowley,” the newly-minted angel replied warmly and pulled him into a kiss. 

“ _Fell!!”_

Crowley and Ezra were almost bowled over when Medina threw his arms around them both. The naval captain was a blubbering mess, and Ezra was stunned by the realization that this was, quite literally, the first time he’d ever seen him cry.

And Medina was an _ugly_ crier.

“Ohmygod! I thought- holyfuckingshit, Fell! And Crowley you- oh, _fuck!”_

He broke down again and hid his face in his hands as Gabriel jumped into the pile with a cry of, “ _Ezra!”_

The strength of Gabriel's hug was _almost_ strong enough to re-crack his brother’s ribs.

“Ack- G-gabe! Y-you’re squishing me!” Ezra gurgled.

Gabriel just shook his head and squeezed tighter. “Don’t care. Lost you twice. Not gonna do it again.”

_“Brother!”_

Ezra flinched at the sound of Blanche, Dorothy, _and_ Rose’s voices (Sophia remained mute as ever) as the four ladies slithered up Crowley’s body into a big, snaky pile. Crowley laughed and kissed each one of their snouts before giving a fifth kiss to Ezra. 

_“You big ol’ dummy!”_

_“You’re okay!”_

_“Oh, we were so worried!”_

_*RATTLE*_

“I can… I can _hear_ them!” Ezra gasped, and stared at his husband’s sisters. “Rose, my darling, your voice is _beautiful_!”

Rose nuzzled him and Crowley said, “Huh. Must be an angel thing, talking to animals.”

“Definitely. It’s _definitely_ an angel thing,” Anathema sniffed, wiping her eyes as she kneeled beside Ezra and placed a hand on his shoulder (as best she could, anyway, with Crowley refusing to relinquish his hold).

Ezra covered her hand with his as Crowley joked, “Guess we won’t be needing that potion after all, huh?”

“‘Potion’? What potion?” the angel asked.

“Well, um… seems kinda dumb now, but I was trying to make a potion or something to make you immortal like me,” Crowley said nervously. He lifted one spread hand in a half jazz-hand with a weak, “Surprise!”

Ezra blinked dumbly. “Well. I suppose that explains all the plant gathering. What about you, though? Can you make it for yourself? You're human now, right?”

“No, I’m… I’m not human,” the former (still?) naga answered truthfully. “I’m still the same as I was before.”

“Then… then I failed,” Ezra sighed.

“Nonono! Angel, don’t you _see_ ?” Crowley gripped his mate’s face in both hands, smushing his cheeks. “I’m still… _whatever_ I was, but I’m _free_ now!” He laughed, delirious with joy at Ezra’s confusion.

“‘Free’? How? I thought that, because you learned to forgive yourself, you became human again!” he said, somewhat irritably.

Crowley groaned, without maliciousness, and stood up on his still somewhat wobbly legs (everyone but Ezra - who’d seen it countless times before - averted their eyes from his nudity). “It’s hard to explain, so I’ll just show you.”

The snake-shaped tattoo on the side of his face (which had _not_ been there before) suddenly darted down his cheek and towards his chest, growing in size as it did so, until it covered both his legs which fused together at the inseam into a familiar black tail. He sat down atop it, and a forked tongue darted out between his re-acquired fangs.

“I _did_ forgive myself, angel. I just refused to forget. I’m not a monster, but I _am_ different...” he kissed the back of Ezra’s hand as his tail curled around the angel’s waist to pull him close. “...just like you.”

Ezra smiled and ran his hands affectionately over the oft-touched scales, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I must admit, I would have missed this side of you, especially both of your-”

“ _Alright, angel!”_

Said angel hid a taunting snicker behind his hand as Crowley shifted back to his human form. Ezra then jolted.

“Oh! Almost forgot! I’ve been wanting to try doing this…” he snapped his fingers and a pair of dark jeans and matching-colored shirt materialized on Crowley’s body. “It works!”

“ _Witchcraft!!”_ bellowed Shadwell and rushed at Ezra.

The Witchfinder instantly found himself pinned on his back by a furious naga, who hissed in his face. Shadwell let his hands go limp at his sides. “Ah, er, nevermind then.”

Crowley backed up, once again melting back into a human shape.

“Aw, and I _just_ summoned those pants too…” Ezra sighed. He snapped again and they reappeared.

Crowley ooh-ed and aah-ed at the comfortable fabric. “‘S been _way_ too long since I last had pants. Fuck, I missed them.”

“What does this mean for you two dears?” Tracy asked, then discreetly tried to wipe away a happy tear or three. “Now that our dear little serpent is human-passing, neither of you have to stay here. You could go _anywhere_!”

Ezra and Crowley shared a stunned look. 

They _could_!

Crowley looked down at himself, then at the surrounding jungle, and finally at the humans (and angel) he had come to know and love. He stared at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. 

“I… I’m not sure,” his said, voice heavy with hesitation. “This place was first my prison, then my _home_ . I don’t even know how long I’ve _been_ here. What year is it?”

“2021,” Tracy answered and Crowley startled.

“Holy _Hell!_ It’s been _that long_?” he mumbled.

He sat down abruptly on his rear, staining the back of his trousers with dirt and grass. He placed a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint. “What- what about my sisters? I can’t just _leave them_!” Dorothy slithered into his lap and he began absent-mindedly stroking her head with the back of a single knuckle. “And- and- if I left, would I be able to come back?”

Ezra sat down beside Crowley and gathered the trembling man into his arms. “Darling, if you want to stay, then we can _stay._ Nothing has to change just because you have _legs_ now.”

“But…” Crowley leaned into his mate’s hold. “I want to _see_ . I want to _know._ I have so many questions about the outside world, and how things have changed in my absence. I want to know how cars work! I want to hear more stories! I want to know what became of Edward! I want-”

Ezra pressed a finger to his lips, cutting off his rambling.

“Beloved, _listen to me_ ,” he stressed. “We can do _all_ those things. There’s nothing saying we can’t take your sisters with us - though I imagine a flat might be a little cramped for them. And there’s nothing saying we can’t come _back_ !” He removed his hand. “Like you said, you’re _free_ ! We can do _whatever_ we want!”

“It _would_ be nice to see you guys more often than one week a year,” Medina said, rubbing shyly at the back of his head.

Gabriel nodded. “I agree, and I’m _not_ just saying that because I miss my brother.”

“Just think of all the _amazing_ things you’ll get to see - to _experience_!” Anathema's face spoke to just how excited she was for Crowley.

“There’s always a spot fer ye in tha Witchfinder Army,” Shadwell offered, all previous accusations of Witchcraft gone from his mind in favor of potentially gaining a shapeshifting recruit.

“And this place will _always_ be waiting for you when you’re ready to come back for a visit,” Tracy said, a patient smile on her face.

Crowley blinked away tears and looked to his sisters for their input.

 _“I wanna see what’s out there!”_ Blanche demanded, not even bothering to hide how much she wanted it.

 _“Wherever Brother goes, I go,”_ Rose stated matter-of-factly.

 _“Oh, this sounds so risky, but… so adventurous!”_ Dorothy answered, peeking out from beneath her own coils.

Sophia rattled her tail, and nobody needed to understand her to know that she was in favor of leaving the island for a while. Trying to keep the tears at bay was no longer working, and Crowley allowed them to fall freely as he scrubbed ineffectually at his face. He took a moment to calm his breathing, then held out a hand to his mate.

“What do you say, angel?” he asked when it was taken. “Do you want to show me the world?”

Ezra kissed the back of Crowley’s hand. “I’d love _nothing_ more.”

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley and Ezra had spent the better part of the day debating what to take from their nest and what to leave behind, but eventually decided that it would be more symbolic to leave the island with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

A fresh start, with new beginnings.

Currently, the two of them were standing on the deck of the ship as Newt rucked up the anchor.

“So, angel, do you want to do the honors and unbeach us?” Crowley asked.

Ezra beamed. “I would be _delighted_.” He snapped his fingers, and the boat shuddered backwards, pushing off from the shore under the weight of his magic.

Crowley looked down at the deck in awe, mind already swimming with questions about how a boat could move without sails. 

“I can’t _wait_ to figure out how all this works,” he said, gesturing to the surrounding area.

He crouched down and rapped his fist against the deck, as if that would somehow yield the answers he wanted.

“Hey! No punching the boat! It did nothing to you!” Medina barked from further back.

Crowley stuck out his tongue in response. As the shore drifted further and further away, Ezra leaned down to whisper into his husband’s ear, “Have you noticed any, er, _personality changes_ since your new transformation?”

Crowley looked up at him and Ezra glanced down, ashamed. “What do you mean, angel?”

“I mean… do you still have those… _instincts_ ,”

Crowley sighed and stood up. He walked over to the bow of the ship and Ezra worried that he might have crossed a line until his husband gestured for him to follow. Side-by-side, the two of them leaned against the railing. Crowley’s hair whipped through the sea breeze and Ezra thought that he had never looked more at-ease than when he was on the open ocean again.

“You’re asking if I still have those more ‘wild’ instincts of mine, right?” he asked abruptly, without looking at the being beside him.

Ezra hung his head a little, which was all the answer Crowley needed. The redhead gave a shuddering sigh and covered his serpentine eyes with his hand.

“I’m so _sorry_ , angel,” he sobbed. “You have every _right_ to be scared of me! I- I made you _bleed_ ! I _killed you_ ! You just wanted to help me and I- I _attacked you_ ! I don’t know _what_ I did to deserve your forgiveness, but please, _please,_ angel-” He seized Ezra’s hands and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I’ll _never_ let it happen again! I’m not a monster anymore! I _swear_ ! You don’t need to be afraid of me _or_ my instincts!”

He was awaiting either salvation or condemnation, and Ezra, for his part, just looked like Crowley had started speaking fluent Japanese with no prior prompting.

“I… I do believe we’ve gotten our wires crossed a bit,” the blonde said gently.

“Huh?”

Ezra pulled his hand free to drum nervously against the railing. “What I meant by ‘instincts’ was… oh dear, this is embarrassing. I meant, do you still have those… _desires_ … to- er- bite and- and- _claim_ and protect and, um…”

Throughout his mate’s stammering, Crowley’s grin widened and his eyes glinted predatorily.

“Ooohhh,” he purred. “You meant _those_ instincts…”

He turned to fully face Ezra and then stalked forward until his mate was backed up against the railing.

“C-Crowley! Everyone’s _right there_!” Ezra hissed, shivering at the hungry look he was receiving.

The redhead leaned his weight fully against the other man, holding him in place. 

“ _You_ want to know if I still want to smell my scent clinging to your skin; to know if I still want you to be _mine_ ,” he whispered lowly into the other’s ear.

He nuzzled his face against the side of Ezra’s in a territorial gesture. He let his arms glide up and down the blonde’s sides before coming to rest on his hips. He gave them a squeeze and Ezra squawked.

“ _Crowley!”_

“You’ll be _pleasssed_ to know that I haven’t changed a _bit_ since growing legs,” Crowley chuckled.

“Oh, darling, don’t sell yourself short,” Ezra rested his hand on the side of his love’s cheek, just under the snake tattoo. “You _have_ changed. You’ve learned to love yourself.”

Crowley felt his ardor cool under the tidal wave of Ezra’s tender words and their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss filled with the promise of eternity. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, my love?” Ezra asked carefully, and passed a pair of sunglasses to Crowley who slipped them on. “London as it is today is _quite_ different than it was 300 years ago.”

The two of them gazed over the ship’s handrail towards the boat rental dock as Newt expertly piloted the watercraft into its assigned spot.

“Are _you_ ready? All of your fans think you’ve been dead for a year. How are you going to explain your ‘miraculous’ survival and the shiny new husband to boot?” Crowley countered.

Ezra entwined his fingers with said husband’s.

“You know, I’m not quite sure,” he admitted, pursing his lips. “I’m half-tempted to simply go about my day as usual just to see how long it takes before someone notices. Anathema would say I’m a bastard like that.”

Crowley brought Ezra’s hand to his face to kiss the back of it. “I’d say you’re just enough of one to be worth knowing.”

Make no mistake, it would be a difficult adjustment for both of them.

There would be some days where Crowley became so overwhelmed by this world that had left him behind, that he would shift to his naga form and hide inside the closet like he was back in the safety of their nest until he felt better.

There would be times when Ezra felt burdened by the weight of his newfound immortality and struggled to come to terms with it. Those days he would retreat so far into his thoughts that Crowley would have to gently coax him back to the present.

There, of course, would also be wonderful times.

In the centuries to come, Ezra would look back fondly over the day his husband got to drive a car for the first time, and how the redhead’s eyes had lit up.

Crowley, in turn, would delight in his discovery of “The Internet” and how he could get the answer to any question he ever had right at the tips of his fingers.

There would even be times that were neither good nor bad, but simply _were._

Crowley and Ezra would move into a cottage in the South Downs, making sure there was enough private land for his sisters to roam without fear of being injured and that they would always have a warm heat-lamp to rest under during the chillier months.

There would be a day when Ezra would do a quick Google search to find out what became of his husband’s old “friend”, Edward, and walls of their home would shake with the angel’s shocked scream of, _“Fucking BLACKBEARD?!”_ only to be met with a bemused, “Yeah. And? You didn’t know that E.T. stood for Edward Teach?”

But those were all in the future.

Here, they stood in the now.

The pair shared a tiny smile and prepared to enter this new world of theirs.

Together.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna do something a LIIIITLE different with the epilogue. If there's anything you're curious to see after the events of this story (or things you want to see them do in general) leave a comment and I'll write an epilogue chapter around it!
> 
> You can also message me directly at my Tumblr blog, candyqueenblog.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope to see you there!


	35. Obligatory Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Included below is a link to a playlist for this fic, as well as a list of the accompanying songs to tide you over until I can post the one-shots and Epilogue Chapters! :D

[ Celldweller - “Kill the Sound” ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lb6LFe7nDPk)

[Imagine Dragons - “Demons”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFQYaoiIFh8)

[Idina Menzel - “Let it Go”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0MK7qz13bU)

[Linkin Park - “What I’ve Done”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dj_d8DlZ-Jo)

[Snow Patrol - “Chasing Cars”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaKr98ktoxU)

[Three Days Grace - “I Hate Everything About You”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpwCJzPlz8k) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Counting Crows - “Mr. Jones”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSO_wvnLhtY) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Maroon 5 ft. Christina Aguilera - “Moves Like Jagger”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suRsxpoAc5w) (Recommended for Chapter 28)

[3 Doors Down - “When I’m Gone”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAY7Lz6t6gU)

[Breaking Benjamin - “Anthem of the Angels”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QB3pxBDZvf4) (Recommended for Chapter 33)

[Jason Mraz ft. Colbie Caillat - “Lucky”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQCY2zL0Jr8)

[Blue October - “Into the Ocean”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7y92XOW1PY) (Recommended for Chapter 1)

[Nickelback - “Savin’ Me”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh3Au31Mqmo)

[Three Days Grace - “The Good Life”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qa3wL8Nkt0A) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Corvus Corax - “Mille Ani Passi Sunt”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1gCpRyU8ww) (Recommended for Chapter 34)

[Three Days Grace - “Over and Over”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hx2Ql_WmZE) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Sarah Brightman - “Chromaggia”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bi7QNrdbanY)

[Lisa Hannigan - “Song of the Sea Lullaby”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5P2-9YY7qU) (Featured in Chapter 25)

[Anthony Stewart Head - “Legal Assassin”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7rARRopvuQ)

[Michael Arden - “Out There”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xb5OGU8I04U)

[Bon Jovi - “You Give Love a Bad Name”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9tKwSboJeg) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Disturbed - “Down With the Sickness”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wA5NmQESx8) (Recommended for Chapter 33)

[Michael Buble - “Haven’t Met You Yet”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBpvsSeBh54)

[Skillet - “Monster”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9NStVkSCuk)

[Peggy Lee - “Johnny Guitar”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeCWuN0dc5w)

[Mystery Skulls - “Freaking Out”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6hcmWtkkHQ)

[Woodkid - “Iron”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F493NCLqmu0)

[Three Days Grace - “Animal I Have Become”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXDC89tZ4IQ)

[Nox Arcana - “Descent Into Madness”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KweGKKWHJtM&t=7s) (Recommended for Chapter 33)

[Creedence Clearwater Revival - “Bad Moon Rising”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BmEGm-mraE)

[Evanescence - “Going Under”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOkJaJjfzbE) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Linda Eder - “Bring on The Men”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeWItubZao4)

[OMNIA - “Wolf Song”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8DJO6m-Qrc)

[Highly Suspect - “My Name is Human”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9-bTdvgyV4)

[Blue October - “I Hope You’re Happy”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLGKb6OLKpM) (Recommended for Chapter 13)

[Live - “Lightning Crashes”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70_9Zg65g7E) (Recommended for Chapters 33 and 34)

[E Nomine - “Das Tier in Mir”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZlPvDYtfp8)

[Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman - “Elephant Love Medley”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEKI83zN0Dg)

[Sarah Stiles - “Drift Away”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmBB_-2hFqY) (Recommended for Chapter 31)

[Neil Young - “Harvest Moon”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPqv_N2mOGE) (Featured in Chapter 3)

[Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXK03FHVsHk) \- “I’ve No More Fucks to Give”

[The Male Version - “Criminal: Cover”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ct1wjsHcy3o)

[Ozzy Osbourne - “Mr. Crowley”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XViiUHHzYRw)

[Ben Levi Ross and Taylor Trensch - “Only Us”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJkwjrFbmIs) (Featured in Chapter 10)

[Anthony Warlow - “Transformation”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k67mhasVZKE&t=1s)

[Korn - “Coming Undone”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPsqQ13UduQ)


	36. Epilogue Chapter 1: In Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra comes down with a cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a gift for my fellow fic writer Shay_Moonsilk!
> 
> Note: When having to go outside or move around the flat, Crowley uses his human form. If sleeping or lounging, he prefers his naga form. (Smut starts at the final "*~*~*~*~*" and continues until the end of the chapter)

**August, 2021 (One Week After Leaving The Island)**

When Crowley woke up in the morning, he felt so _warm._

He purred sleepily and tightened his coils around the thing that was radiating warmth in the bed beside him. The thing took a stuttering, wheezy breath and Crowley’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up off the mattress to look down at his husband. The angel’s eyes were shut, not in a peaceful sleep, but in a fitful, uncomfortable one. Ezra’s face had gone paler than normal and a sheen of sweat stood out on his skin.

He gently nudged his mate awake with a whispered, “Angel, are you okay?”

Ezra didn’t move and Crowley panicked for a split second, before powder-blue eyes slowly cracked open.

“Mmph… Crowley?” He groaned and closed his eyes again. “I hurt…”

The redhead’s hands hovered nervously over Ezra’s body, as if he were unsure if his touch would be painful. “Are you sick? Do angels get sick? Oh, fuck! It’s the plague, isn’t it?” Crowley gasped, horrified. “Yup. It’s the plague. Gotta be!”

Ezra pushed himself up a little with an annoyed cry of, “It’s not the _plague_ , Crowley!” Before dropping back down onto their bed with a _thwump._

Crowley fiddled nervously with the tip of his tail, an embarrassed flush high on his cheeks. “Ah, er… if it’s not the Plague, then what is it? Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, dearest,” Ezra smiled. “It’s just a little cold, I believe.”

Mostly calmed down, but still somewhat concerned, Crowley stretched out beside him, tail curling around the sick angel in a protective embrace. 

“Anything I can do for you?” he asked. “Anything at all?”

“You can let me go back to sleep, for now,” Ezra hummed and closed his eyes.

Crowley watched his husband’s chest rise and fall in shallow, congested breaths until he was certain he was asleep. Once he was, the naga shifted back into his human form, rolled out of bed, and slipped on a pair of comfy pants and a loose t-shirt.

_Ezra’s probably gonna be hungry when he wakes up. I think some soup will be a good idea…_

The thought of trying to make soup from scratch in their _very modern_ kitchen sent a frisson of nervousness up Crowley’s spine. As much as he _loved_ the advancements in technology that had come about in the last 300 years since he’d been marooned, it was still somewhat overwhelming. So many buttons and dials and features… And that was just on a microwave! For his mate, however, he’d do anything.

“‘S just throwing ingredients in a pot. I’ve done it before over an open campfire, how hard can a stove-top be?”[1] he couldn’t help but whisper into the quiet air of their bedroom.

Sneakily (or as sneaky as a man who was still getting used to having legs again could be), Crowley crept out of their bedroom into the hallway, making sure to softly close the door behind him so his mate could sleep in peace. As soon as it clicked shut, however, Crowley was nearly bowled over by Rose slithering angrily after Sophia.

_“You little thief! Give that back!”_

_*RATTLE!*_

Crowley may have had a human shape now, but he’d never lost that serpentine speed or strength. His sisters suddenly found themselves dangling by their tails like a pair of limp noodles as he held them up.

“ _Oi!_ Quiet down you two!” he hissed. “Ezra’s sick and he needs to rest!”

_“Sick? What’s wrong with him?”_

_*RATTLE?*_

Crowley glanced over his shoulder at the bedroom door behind him. “Not sure. But he said he’d be alright and I believe him. I’m going to the kitchen to try and make him some soup for when he wakes up, so _don’t_ make too much noise. That goes for Blanche and Dorothy too if you see them.”

The rattler and the constrictor both nodded and Crowley lowered them back to the ground.

_“Do you want us to keep an eye on him for you?”_

_*RATTLE!*_

“Yeah, that… that would actually make me feel a little better. Just _don’t wake him up_!” he said urgently.

Rose and Sophia saluted him with their tails and he opened the door for them. He watched them slither up onto the mattress where Ezra was bundled beneath a pile of blankets to fight off the chill. Ezra made a sleepy-sounding noise, then hugged Rose to himself, who went without a complaint.

Crowley exhaled softly in relief that his mate would be protected while he was busy. He closed the door, making sure to leave a sliver open (in case something happened and his sisters needed to get his attention - they hadn’t quite mastered doorknobs yet), then made for the kitchen.

He stood there amidst shiny appliances (he still didn’t quite understand how _any_ of them worked) and drummed his fingers nervously on his thigh. Normally, his _mate_ was the one who handled the cooking while he loomed over his shoulder and watched in order to learn. _Now_ , however, Crowley felt like he’d been marooned all over again.

“ _C’mon,_ Anthony, you’ve been watching him for a while now…” He gritted out between clenched teeth and rubbed at his temples with two fingers. “It’s just _soup_! You’re not sailing out to battle again!”

With that said, he threw his shoulders back, sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and wrenched the refrigerator door open (almost taking it off its hinges with his strength). He crouched down and stared into it, mentally running over different recipes he’d learned before being stranded. Most of the details of them had been lost to time, so he threw up his metaphorical hands and decided to improvise.

His golden eyes landed on a hunk of pecorino cheese and he snatched it up, turning the solid block over in his hands, before shrugging and closing the door.

_Alright, ingredient number one…_

He glanced around the kitchen again, and this time caught sight of some beefsteak tomatoes sitting in a basket on the countertop, across from a little pile of onions and garlic. The recipe was _sloooowly_ taking shape in his mind and he cast about looking for more to add.

The pantry yielded a bottle of olive oil, hot sauce, and a salt shaker, and Crowley nodded his head, satisfied with his quest.

_Now we just add them together, throw it in a pot for a bit, then WAHOO!_

At this point in preparing soup, one would start chopping, mincing, dicing, and whatnot.

Instead, Crowley, still somewhat feral from his time spent in isolation, placed the onions, tomatoes, and garlic on a cutting board and began pounding them into paste with his fists.

He pretended the tomatoes were Edward’s head and it felt rather therapeutic. 

Once that was done, he dribbled the pulp into the first pot he found, added a large squirt of olive oil, half the bottle of hot sauce (Ezra _loved_ spicy food!) along with a _teeny_ dab of salt, covered it all with water from the tap, and crumbled half the block of pecorino into little bits to plop into the mixture.

_See? Nothing to it!_

He remembered Ezra teaching him how to use the stove-top, and pressed a little button on the surface, which prompted him to enter a number between 1 and 10.

_Why so many choices? 10 is just fine!_

He typed in “10” and the stove-top instantly started heating up in an orange, circle-shaped light. Crowley scooted the pot atop the glowing circle, snatched a wooden spoon from a drawer, and idly began stirring what, in his mind, would be the _best soup ever!_

Alas, he was no longer on the island, and his imagination could no longer shape reality…

He’d _just_ started letting his mind wander, when thick, black smoke that smelled _spicy_ began rolling out of the pot and flooding the kitchen. Crowley jumped away with a strangled scream that was quickly drowned out by a cacophonous beeping from somewhere nearby. 

It was going to wake up his mate!

Crowley snarled and located the source of the shrill noise before ripping the smoke detector off the wall and smashing it on the counter. The noble device gave one last mangled _beeeeep_ before succumbing, slain in the line of duty. The redhead spun on his heels, when he heard someone approaching, but it just turned out to be Rose, who was looking very concerned.

_“Brother? What’s going on? What was that noise? Why is there so much smoke?”_

“Oh, fuck!”

Crowley ran back to the soup but it was a lost cause. 

The charred, bubbling _mess_ at the bottom of the pot wouldn’t be recognizable as _tar_ \- much less something that had once been intended to be _eaten_!

Crowley turned off the stove and covered his face before sinking to the ground with his back against the counter, groaning the entire way down.

“It’s _ruined_ ,” he grumbled. He removed his hands from his face to look at Rose. “Is Ezra still asleep?”

“ _Yes. I just came to see if you were alright,”_

She slithered up to him and placed her head comfortingly on his knee. Crowley patted her absent-mindedly as he tried to think of how he could salvage the mess mouldering on the countertop.

_“It’s not like you to fail a hunt, Brother,”_

“‘S not hunting. It’s cooking. _Big_ difference,” Crowley huffed.

_“I don’t know what ‘cooking’ is, but doesn’t Twitchy Human owe you a favor for teaching HIM how to hunt for his mate?”_

Crowley furrowed his brow and blinked slowly.

“Yeah… he _does_ ,” he said.

Rose looked up at him, expectantly, and Crowley stood up.

*~*~*~*~*

Newt lifted his hand to the door to knock when it swung inward, and a tanned, calloused hand fisted the front of his shirt, yanking him inside. The yacht captain stumbled on his feet momentarily before righting himself.

“Geez, Crowley, you don’t have to startle me like that!” he chided, but smiled nonetheless. “Sorry. I just didn’t want you to knock too loudly and wake Ezra up,” Crowley admitted nervously, his hand opening and closing around the empty space beside him as if he were fiddling with his (currently nonexistent) tail.

Newt glanced out the living room window.

“Wake him up? It’s noon! Is he okay?” Newt asked.

“Mostly. He’s got a fever and is resting up right now. Rose and Sophia are keeping an eye on him for me,” Crowley’s eyes darted towards the bedroom. “I tried to make him some soup, but…”

He gestured at the pot still sitting on the stove and Newt mumbled, “ _That_ explains why your flat smells like you set a pound of spices on fire…”

“So can you show me what I did wrong, or not?” Crowley muttered, already stomping towards the kitchen.

“Sure. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Crowley did so, explaining each of his steps in detail, and Newt hummed thoughtfully through the entire thing.

“Alright, I’ve figured out what you did wrong,” the bespectacled man declared, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth.

“Really? What?” Crowley asked, voice and eyes colored with hope.

“All of it,” Newt deadpanned. “There is not a _single thing_ you did right.”

Crowley crossed his arms and pouted, forked tongue darting out in warning. Newt held up his hands placatingly. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try again. I’ll walk you through the steps.”

Crowley, with _great_ embarrassment, allowed him to do so. Newt showed him how to properly mince vegetables instead of simply beating them into submission. He showed him how to saute the garlic and onions together with a splash of olive oil to soften them up and release the flavor. He showed him how to puree using a blender and just how much spice to _properly_ use to bring out the zing of heat without overwhelming the soup’s base flavor. He even showed him the correct temperature for simmering.

By the end, the two of them were standing proudly above a pot of gently bubbling tomato soup.

“I gotta hand it to ya, Twitchy Human; You’ve got talent,” Crowley said, and smacked Newt’s back in a show of camaraderie.

Newt winced at the force behind his friend’s “affectionate” gesture and rolled his shoulders.

“I’ve always had a talent for cooking,” he admitted. “But sailing’s what I enjoy doing for a living, despite my family’s ‘curse’. I actually majored in Information Technology in college, but got expelled after bringing down the campus’s _entire_ computer grid.”

Crowley hummed and nodded, not even looking at him. “I understood exactly _nothing_ of that last sentence. Want some soup before you go?”

Newt sighed heavily. “I’d love some.”

*~*~*~*~*

Crowley balanced a bowl in his hand as he gently nudged their bedroom door open with his hip. Apparently, while he was busy in the kitchen, Blanche and Dorothy had decided to join Rose and Sophia in Ezra’s bedside vigil.

“Thanks for the help, girls. I’ll take it from here,” he whispered.

All four of them nodded and snuck back into the hallway, leaving Crowley alone with a bowl of soup and his sick mate. The redhead set the bowl down on the bedside drawer and sat on the mattress next to where Ezra’s head was pressed into a pillow. He gently ran a hand through sweat-soaked hair before leaning down to press a kiss to his burning brow. “Wake up, angel. I’ve brought lunch.”

For a moment, Ezra didn’t say anything. Then, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. They were still dazed with fever, but they crinkled at the corners when he caught his husband’s gaze.

“Did you say ‘lunch’?” the blonde rasped. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A few hours, but you needed it,” Crowley answered honestly. “Can you sit up? I made tomato soup. I didn’t even know that was a _thing_ until today!”[2]

Ezra nodded weakly and pushed himself up, propping his back against the headboard. Crowley placed the bowl in his lap, careful to not spill it.

“This looks _fantastic_!” Ezra gasped, genuinely impressed.

“Eh, the first attempt wasn’t,” Crowley admitted with a nervous chuckle. “Had to have Newt come over and help me.”

“Oh? Is he still here?”

“Nah. I sent him home with some of the soup for him and Anathema, though,”

“It’s just as well, I suppose. I wouldn’t want him getting sick,” Ezra sighed, and took a spoonful of soup. When his lips closed around it his eyes went wide and he made a surprised little moan that had Crowley crossing his legs. “Dearest, this is _incredible!_ Is this _your_ recipe?”

“Yeah. I just threw a bunch of things together and Newt helped me refine it,”

Ezra put the spoon down and gave his husband a tomato-flavored kiss. “I _love_ it. And I love you. You always take such good care of me.”

Crowley sighed happily and pressed their foreheads together. “We take care of _each other_ , angel.”

The redhead watched Ezra finish the last of his soup and when it was gone, he scooped him up into powerful arms. “Come on. You’re all sweaty. Let’s get you into the shower and then some fresh pajamas.”

“ _You_ just want to get me naked and take advantage of me in my weakened state,” Ezra joked.

“Very funny. See if I ever cook for _you_ again,”

Normally, when Crowley undressed his mate, it led to more scandalous activities. This time, however, it was a gentle, loving thing. Crowley dumped the old pajamas into the laundry hamper as Ezra turned the shower to a near-scorching temperature. Behind him, Ezra could hear the sounds of his husband shucking off his own clothes and shifting into his naga form.

Crowley slithered into the shower (a spacious thing large enough to accommodate him in his more primal shape) and hunkered down under the spray, patting his coils. “Make yourself comfortable, angel, ‘cause I certainly am.”

Ezra quickly stepped in before the chills could overtake him again, and nestled himself amongst Crowley’s many loops and coils. He let his head fall back against the other’s chest, and a pair of arms came around his stomach to hold him close.

“This is _lovely_ ,” Ezra sighed. “We should do this more often.”

“Abssssolutely,”

Money was no issue for an angel (who could conjure more with a snap of his fingers) so the two of them were perfectly content to let their water bill run up as they traded lazy kisses and washed up. Eventually, however, Ezra began dozing off and Crowley had to turn off the showerhead. He helped Ezra dry off with those fluffy towels he was so fond of, then re-dressed him in clean pajamas.

“If you keep pampering me like this, _you’re_ going to get sick, my love,” giggled the blonde as he was lowered back down onto their bed.

“Eh, it’ll be worth it if I do,” Crowley pecked his lips and smirked. “Besides, it just means that _I’ll_ get to be pampered, next.”

“As if you aren’t already the most spoiled snake this side of the Meditteranean,” Ezra patted the mattress beside him and Crowley eagerly went, winding his tail around his mate as he did so. 

The redhead reached down and pulled the covers over the both of them. He went to ask if Ezra was comfortable, but the other man had already fallen asleep and was now snoring lightly, his breathing sounding clearer than it had just that morning. Crowley smiled, absolutely smitten, then kissed his cheek before following him under.

*~*~*~*~*

The next evening Ezra had recovered fully, but Crowley still fretted over him as if he were about to drop dead at any second.

“Darling, I’m _fine_ ,” the angel groused, and slapped away the cold washcloth that Crowley was pressing to his forehead.

“‘M sssssorry, angel, I- I just want to make sure,” Crowley swallowed. “I thought I losssst you once, then I _did_ lose you a second time. I couldn’t ssssurvive a third time.”

Ezra softened, and he pulled his husband close for a tight hug. “I’m _never_ leaving you again,” he whispered fiercely.

He suddenly seized Crowley’s face and mashed their mouths together. The naga responded instantly with a shattered groan and licked into his mate’s mouth as he pressed him down into the mattress. For all his newfound angelic power, Ezra was still no match for Crowley’s strength and the thought of being pinned, helpless, to the bed below had his now-healthy body flush with heat.

Ezra let out a moan when Crowley’s fangs nibbled at his neck.

“That’sss right, angel, do you hear how you whine for me? Can you tell what it _does_ to me?” he growled.

Crowley unlatched his mouth in favor of being pulled up for a scorching kiss. Ezra snapped his fingers, vanishing his pajamas as he spread his legs for Crowley to lower himself down between. The blonde’s cock reacted almost _instantly_ to the feel of his husband’s hemipenes brushing against it. He rolled his hips up a little and Crowley suddenly seized his wrists and held them down beside his head. “Sssstay still.”

Ezra whimpered and nodded weakly. Crowley shot him a predatory grin before sliding down the length of his body. Ezra felt a gust of hot breath over the tip of his cock and it took every ounce of willpower he currently possessed to not thrust up towards it. 

“ _Please_ , dearest,” he moaned indecently.

Crowley purred, “Whatever my mate wants.”, then bent down to lap at the head of Ezra’s member.

The blonde’s eyes squeezed shut and he made a noise that had Crowley’s hemipenes twitching with a life of their own. The naga swallowed further down, running his tongue across the underside of the length in his mouth, and Ezra threw back his head and gasped, just _barely_ able to stop himself from reaching down to tangle his hands in his husband’s long hair. At the sound of his gasp, he felt hands tighten possessively around his thighs.

Crowley pulled away with a rumble. “Don’t worry, angel, I have you.”

“Then _have me_ , dammit!” Ezra sobbed. Not willing to waste another second, he was seized with a burst of inspiration and snapped his fingers, loosening and slicking himself for Crowley, who could only stare at his prepared hole in stunned glee.

 _“Holy shit, angel!”_ he breathed, and scrambled to line himself up. “One or both?”

“J-just one. Still a little tired…”

“Whatever my mate wants,” Crowley repeated, and bottomed out in one smoothe, steady thrust.

“You feel so _good_ inside me!” Ezra sighed delightedly, voice tinged with both happiness and _desperate_ lust.

Crowley’s hands migrated from the angel’s hips to both his wrists, keeping him in place. He growled and buried his face in the crook of Ezra’s neck, delivering a particularly powerful thrust as he did so.

“You’re _mine_ , aren’t you? _My_ hussssband? _My_ mate?” he snarled.

Ezra let out a cry like he’d been mortally wounded and nodded frantically, but it didn’t seem to satisfy his husband, who picked up the pace of his thrusts. “Ssssay it! Say you’re mine!”

He bit down _hard_ on Ezra’s shoulder who screamed, “ _Yours! Yours!_ I’m yours! Only _ever_ yours!!”

Normally, Ezra didn’t approve of such heavy possessiveness unless he was able to reciprocate in turn, usually with a cheeky, “You’re mine, right? Nobody else’s?” followed by a simpering pout, but at this moment in time, Crowley’s covetousness hit that metaphorical spot inside the angel’s heart like scratching a long-had itch and words of submission and devotion spilled from his parted lips.

Subconsciously, Ezra tried to reach a hand between their bodies to take himself in hand, but was met with resistance from his husband’s hands on his wrists and he _almost_ came from the show of strength alone. 

“Crowley- Crowley, _please_ !” he begged. “T-touch me! I’m… I’m so _close!”_

The redhead didn’t answer, nor did he lift one of his hands to wrap around Ezra’s cock. Instead, he pressed his body even harder against the one beneath him, trapping it between them. The slip-slide of pre-come and sweat against Crowley’s tight abdomen had Ezra peaking so fast that it was almost laughable. The blonde babbled mad half-sentences as he rode it out and, once he’d recovered enough of his cognitive faculties, pleaded, “Come inside me! Fill me up! _Claim me_ with it!”

Crowley’s thrusts became frantic, yet somehow managed to drive deep enough that Ezra began trembling from overstimulation. With one final, mindless growl of, “ _Mine!”_ the naga spilled inside his mate’s clenching hole.

He twitched through the last pulses of his orgasm, before slipping out and gathering Ezra up in his arms. The angel snapped his fingers, and the mess between their bodies (and inside his own) vanished into the aether.

“S-see?” Ezra panted, unbearably smug despite looking fucked-out. “I told you I was fine.”

“Ssssstill gonna worry about you,” Crowley objected, his voice muffled from where it was pressed against his mate’s shoulder. “Probably until the end of time.”

Ezra carded his hand through beloved burgundy tresses. “So will I for you, my love,” He kissed his forehead. “So will I.”

*~*~*~*~*

1As he said so, every chef within a 30-kilometer radius felt a sudden sense of foreboding.[return to text]

2The first recipe for Tomato Soup wasn't published until 1857.[return to text]


	37. Epilogue Chapter 2: The Cursed Nativity Play (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the full story of the infamous Nativity Play...

**December 1st, 2021 (5 Months After Leaving The Island)**

Crowley dozed on the sofa (a grey sectional large enough to comfortably rest all five metres of him) when he was jolted awake by the upbeat jingle of the thin rectangle resting on the coffee table. He snatched it up and peered at the screen whereupon the words, “The Archangel Fucking Gabriel” stared up at him.

“ _Oi, angel!”_ he shouted in the direction of the kitchen. “Your Talky-Box is making noise!”

“It’s called a _phone,_ dearest!” came Ezra’s answer.

Crowley smirked. It had been four months since he and his mate left The Island to return to London and that had been _plenty_ of time for him to learn the proper word for “cellphone”, but he still enjoyed calling it a “Talky-Box” just to mess with Ezra.

He wondered how long it would take before the angel caught on…

His thumb pressed the “Talk” button and he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Purple Human! What do you need?”

 _“I never should have told you my favorite color,”_ Gabriel groused. _“Is Ezra there? I need his help with something.”_

“Sure. Gimme a moment,”

Crowley shifted to his human shape and padded into the kitchen where he found Ezra steeping a cup of tea for himself. The blonde saw him enter and eyed his husband’s naked lower half appreciatively.

“Why, _darling,_ it’s been some time since you had me against the kitchen counter. What’s the occasion?” Ezra purred.

Crowley held out the phone at the same time Gabriel’s voice came through.

_“For Heaven’s sake, Ezra! I didn’t need to hear that!”_

Crowley cackled as Ezra turned bright red and snatched the phone away from him. “T-terribly sorry about that, brother dear! It was just a… a joke!”

 _“Riiiight,”_ said Gabriel sarcastically, and Ezra could practically hear him rolling his eyes. _“Anywho, I called because I need to ask a favor.”_

“What is it?”

_“You remember that Nativity Play from the December before you fell overboard?”_

Ezra sucked in a sharp breath and went rigid, his nails digging into the countertop. Crowley was by his side in an instant, trying to calm his mate’s frantic breathing.

“Angel? Angel! What’s wrong?”

“It… it _can’t_ be that time of year again, it _can’t_!” Ezra sobbed and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

Crowley’s eyes had gone fully serpentine with worry, and he was checking the blonde over for any signs of injury.

“Angel, _pleasssse_ talk to me!” the redhead begged.

 _“Last I checked, today was the first of December,”_ Gabriel said gently.

Ezra turned terrified eyes to the kitchen window where, beyond it, dainty snowflakes clung to the glass pane.

“I… I _can’t_ ! I _can’t_ do it again!” he babbled, shaking his head in fervent denial of the cruelty his brother intended to inflict on him.

 _“Come on, Sunshine! Anathema already said no and Newt won’t help either! Carlos agreed to play the role of Joseph this year, so you don’t have to! I just need you to play someone else!”_ Gabriel replied.

That gave Ezra pause.

“I… I wouldn’t have to be Joseph again?” he asked quietly.

He heard Gabriel exhale in relief.

 _“No. Not this year,”_ he said. _“Completely different role. I’ve even put failsafes in place so whatever happened LAST time, won’t happen THIS time.”_

Ezra nibbled his bottom lip and kicked his heels against the floor. Crowley watched him nervously until the blonde finally spoke.

“Oh alright. Is it still for the 15th?” he asked.

 _“Absolutely. All the actors are meeting up at the church tomorrow to begin rehearsals. Wear comfortable clothes!”_ Gabriel said eagerly, then hung up before his brother could change his mind.

Ezra placed his phone down on the floor and hid his face in his hands with a sigh. Crowley crawled into his lap (eager to get his bare legs and bum off the cold floor) and did his utmost best to wind around his mate as if he were still in his naga form.

“Is everything alright?” he asked with a nervous smile.

Ezra uncovered his face and let his head thunk back against the wall before wrapping his arms around Crowley.

“Gabriel asked me to participate in his church’s annual Nativity Play again,” he replied.

Crowley cocked his head. “So? What’s wrong with that? You _love_ the theatre!”

“I do, just… just not this one,” Ezra sighed, and lifted one hand to rub at his temple. “Three years ago, Gabriel joined a church. He ended up becoming quite popular with his fellow members, and in the first year after joining, was offered a small role in their Nativity Play as the Archangel Gabriel; I’m convinced it was because of his name. Well, as it turns out, there weren’t enough volunteers for all the parts, so my brother roped Ana and I into helping. Apart from a few of my exes, agreeing to play Mary’s husband was the _worst_ mistake I’ve ever made. The entire play went wrong, from start to finish!”

Crowley’s smile was cat-like as he snuggled closer with a, “Do tell!”

*~*~*~*~*

**December 15, 2018**

Ezra slipped his hand into Thomas’s as the two of them crunched through the snow up the steps to Glory Be Hosanna Lutheran Church. The snowflakes danced through the frigid night air, illuminated by the warm glow of street lamps and passing car lights. The church doors were wide open, allowing members of the congregation to trickle in for the evening’s performance.

“This is an odd place for a date,” Thomas remarked, eyeing the stained glass windows warily.

“Well, my younger brother managed to wrangle me into acting in tonight’s Nativity Play. I figured a nice bit of amateur theatre would be a lovely idea,” Ezra explained politely.

“It’s not the kind of show _I_ would have preferred,” the taller man growled playfully and slapped Ezra’s rear loud enough for it to be heard over the faint sounds of the church organ wafting through the open doors.

Ezra squeaked and jolted away, and an old lady gave them a stern glare.

“ _Thomas!”_ he hissed under his breath and gave the woman an apologetic smile for his date’s behavior.

Said date rolled his eyes and climbed the salted church steps to enter the building.

“So, do I just take a seat in the pews while you head backstage?” he asked, glancing around at the church’s interior.

“The show will actually be in the library. The bookshelves have been moved aside to make room for a temporary stage. It’s just down the hall and to the left!” Ezra pecked Thomas on the cheek and then darted for the storage closet doubling as a changing room.

Fifteen minutes later, Ezra stood fidgeting nervously behind the stage curtain. He parted it to peer out into the audience - a full house! - and saw Thomas sitting in the middle of the front row of folding chairs. He caught sight of Ezra peeking out and gave a friendly wave. Eza quickly ducked back behind it as one of the stagehands looped a pulley hook into the back of a harness concealed under Gabriel’s white robes.

“You’ve got this, Sunshine,” his brother smiled, giving a shake of his cardboard wings once they were situated on his back.

The two shared a thumbs-up as another stagehand tugged on his end of the pulley, lifting Gabriel up and into the air. From beyond the curtain, Ezra could hear a small child, the narrator, telling the story of how Mary came to find out she was to carry the son of God.

“And ‘lo the Archangel Gabriel did descend from Heaven!” the child declared with panache.

All at once, the curtain was pulled aside and Ezra didn’t have enough time to scurry to the wings before it opened fully. He froze, center-stage, and locked eyes with Anathema in her blue robes, jerking her head to the side and telling him without words to _get out of sight!_

Ezra’s mouth went dry.

“I- I’m not Gabriel,” he stammered, pointing at Anathema. “I- I’m just her husband, Joseph. Well, not her _real_ husband, I’m just her friend. And my name’s not Joseph, it’s Ezra. I-”

 _“Get off the stage!”_ a stagehand whispered harshly in his ear and yanked him to the side.

Ezra looked up to see Gabriel being lowered back down, completely unfazed by the interruption.

_Would that I had HALF his confidence…_

On the stage, Anathema gasped overdramatically and fell to her knees.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is this one of God’s messengers?” she asked, heartrendingly sincere in her delivery.

Gabriel smiled magnanimously down at her, hands folded as if in prayer.

“Be not afraid,” he said airily. “For you have found favor in the eyes of God. For ‘lo a-”

There came a loud noise and the rope suspending Gabriel snapped, sending him plummeting to the stage below. It wasn’t a bad fall, but he landed _hard_ on his knee and everyone in attendance was privy to the sight - and sound - of an “Archangel” cursing up a colorful storm.

_“FUCKING SHIT COCK ASS WANK BUGGER SHITS AND DICKS!! FUUUUUCK! JESUS FIGURE-SKATING CHRIST!”_

The audience erupted into scandalized gasps, many parents covering their children’s ears, as Gabriel stood up and leaned unsteadily on his good leg. Anathema was the first to recover from the spectacle and exclaimed, “Jesus? Is that to be my child’s name?”

“Technically Yeshua, but whatever,” Gabriel grumbled and hobbled off stage, broken halo dangling from his head and wings abandoned (which Anathema swiftly kicked away). 

The next scenes were uneventful and Ezra began to believe that the rest of the play would be the same, right up until it came time for the “Ride into Bethlehem” scene. 

“Alright, while the narrator’s busy, I need you to sit on top of this donkey and let Ezra pull you across the stage,” the director (a taciturn woman by the name of Michael) said.

Anathema and Ezra stared down at the child-sized rocking horse with wheels nailed haphazardly to the sides.

“That thing won’t support my weight,” Anathema said at the same time Ezra remarked, “That isn’t a donkey.”

Michael rolled her eyes. 

“Look, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be fine,” she scoffed, and helped Anathema sit (more like a squat than a proper sit) atop the “donkey” while handing Ezra the rope attached to its head. “Now’s your cue, Joseph. Do us proud.”

Ezra gulped and nodded, then began dragging Anathema and the donkey forward as the curtain parted.

“Oh my dearest husband, will we _ever_ find lodgings before this child is born?” she asked, rubbing over the balloon under her robe meant to mimic the image of a woman on the verge of giving birth.

“I’m sure we will, darling wife. We must simply be patient and the Lord will provi-”

He was cut off by Anathema’s shriek as the “donkey” finally succumbed to her weight and shattered, sending the woman to the floor and the poor toy’s head sailing into the audience whereupon it struck an elderly pensioner in the face, splitting his lip.

Ezra quickly pulled Anathema to her feet. Then, in an effort to distract from the old man’s wife tending to his bleeding face, he launched into his little musical number about how _no one_ would aid his poor wife.

Thankfully, he’d had a small microphone attached to the front of his robe earlier which projected his voice perfectly…

…right up until it died halfway through and he was forced to _shout_ the lyrics so the audience members in the back could hear him better.

He was _vaguely_ aware of a child in the front row crying and wanting to know why “Joseph” was angry at them, but at the time, he couldn’t be bothered to care, lest he ruin the whole song! Once it was done, Ezra panted, “Will _no one_ offer my poor wife shelter?!” and swung his arm out in a wide, accusatory gesture.

Unfortunately, Anathema was standing right next to him and his hand struck her abdomen, popping the balloon under it with a thunderous sound of finality.

The entire room, cast and audience alike, went silent.

Then, from the back, a single child’s voice wailed, “Baby Jesus is _deeeeaaad!_ ”

 _That_ set off a chain reaction of other children in the audience and soon, there was not a single dry eye belonging to anybody under the age of eight. Ezra’s head whipped back and forth, unsure of what to do, when a baby doll was tossed at him from beyond the curtain.

He fumbled it, however, and “Baby Jesus” cracked his head on the floor. The children cried even harder, which then increased into a _fever pitch_ when Ezra bent over to pick up the doll, but it’s head popped off to go rolling away.

Thankfully, Anathema was quick to snatch it up and reaffix it in place (if backwards), before holding Jesus aloft before the crowd of traumatized children a la _“The Lion King_ ”. 

“Look, husband! I have given birth!”

Behind them, the stage crew scrambled to arrange the “Manger and Accompanying Animals Set” a full fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. The “Three Wise Men” (all of them fourth graders wearing massive, fake beards) were placed in their positions as Anathema handed Jesus back to Ezra and made her way to sit at the head of the manger.

The blonde glanced nervously back to the audience, which had quieted considerably since Jesus’s “birth”, then cradled the doll to his chest. He walked towards where Anathema and the Wise Men were kneeling, and prepared to place Jesus in the manger, but his foot caught on the hem of his robe and he pitched forward.

Jesus, thankfully, landed where he was meant to go, but Ezra ended up crushing a paper mache lamb beneath his body. One of the Wise Men, the lamb’s crafter presumably, burst into heaving tears and had to be escorted off-stage before she threw up from crying too hard. Ezra peeled himself off the floor and glanced down at the mangled lamb beneath him. It was flat as a sheet of paper - _Ashes to ashes and paper to paper_ , Ezra thought miserably - and the eyes had bugged entirely to the side like a stress toy mid-squeeze.

The blonde sighed deeply, wicked the shredded pieces of lamb off his robe front, and took his place beside Anathema.

After that, the narrator delivered the closing lines of the play and the curtain was drawn as the audience gave a round of conflicted applause. When the curtain parted again, the cast members all lined up to give their final bow. Hand-in-hand, they stepped to the edge of the stage and bent at the waist.

Ezra, however, bent a little _too_ far and toppled head-over-heels directly into the front row. Thomas scrambled away in time and Ezra crashed into the folding chairs with a cry as the ligaments in his shoulder tore under the impact, spraining it.

_Why do I get the feeling this won’t be the last time I injure myself like this in a fall?_

The blonde groaned in pain and opened his eyes to see Thomas looming over him, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“I… I get the feeling there won’t be a fourth date?” Ezra gritted out.

Thomas just shook his head and walked away without a second glance back as Anathema dialed for an ambulance.

*~*~*~*~*

“So, now you know the whole sordid affair,” Ezra sighed.

He looked at his husband, who was biting hard enough on his bottom lip to almost draw blood and trembling with the force of restrained laughter. The angel rolled his eyes. “Let it out, my love, before you hurt yourself.”

Crowley did so.

Loudly.

“Y-you… you fucking… angel- I- I can’t-” he devolved into little more than wild howls and Ezra shoved him off his lap.

Crowley just curled up into a ball and hugged his torso as he rocked back and forth on the kitchen floor, tears streaming down his cheeks. To an outsider, it would have looked like he was in terrible agony.

“Keep that up and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” Ezra huffed with a pout.

“ _Noooo…_ ” Crowley whined and crawled back into his mate’s lap. 

He repeatedly kissed Ezra’s face and the blonde let him do so for a bit before catching his lips with his own.

“So do you see why I was so hesitant to let Gabriel drag me back into this whole fiasco again?” he giggled.

Crowley nuzzled his nose against Ezra’s in an Inuit-Kiss. “Yeah, but now _I’m_ here. I’ll be your lucky charm and make sure nothing goes wrong this year.”

“I hope so, darling. I hope so…”


	38. Epilogue Chapter 2: The Cursed Nativity Play (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley dukes it out with a nun and Ezra runs into an ex...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick CW: A character says something mean about another character having a lisp.

**December 15, 2021**

_ If there was ever a time for deja vu, this would probably be it… _

Once again, as he had three years ago, Ezra found himself standing in front of Glory Be Hosanna Lutheran Church on a chilly December evening, with a tall, handsome man by his side. This time, however, his date took his hand, unprompted, and kissed the back of it through the thick scarf around his face.

“It’ll be fine, angel. You, Gabriel, and Medina have worked so hard to make sure that this year will be a success,” Crowley said softly, voice muffled.

With his all-black ensemble of a thick coat, boots, scarf, gloves, sunglasses, and hat (with a little pompom) he looked like a Soot Sprite. Ezra smiled and stood on his tiptoes to pull Crowley’s hat a little further down until it was covering his eyebrows.

“Thank you, dearest,” he said. “Now, let’s get inside and situated before you go into brumation.”

Crowley made a noise of assent and took Ezra’s hand again as he waddled up the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*

The library was nice and warm, enough to where Crowley was able to shed his many outer layers in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of his time shedding his tail’s skin.

_ Thank Somebody I don’t have to go through that alone anymore… _

He’d  _ just  _ taken off his hat and laid it atop the pile of garments in the folding chair beside him, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He craned his head back to find a woman sitting behind him, dressed in a long, black dress. The woman gave him a sweet, if tight, smile and said, “Hello, there. My name’s Theresa. And yours?”

“Uh… Anthony. Anthony J. Crowley-Fell. But you can just call me Crowley,” the redhead answered.

Theresa’s eyes lit up in recognition. “So  _ you’re  _ the famous husband of Mr. Fell’s that’s in all the papers!” she gasped, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Is it true, then? Did you really pull him from the ocean after he fell overboard? Is it also true that you both began a passionate, whirlwind romance in hiding to escape the pressures of modern life?”

“Yup,” lied Crowley, popping the ‘P’.

Theresa cooed.

“How  _ romantic!  _ Though, why’d you two decide to come back?”

Crowley blinked rapidly behind his shades to stifle the tears that had sprang, unbidden, to his eyes at the memory of his husband dying in his arms.

“Changed our mind. Stuff happened.” he mumbled. “I lost my best friend.”

300 years ago, at the mention of “best friend”, Edward would have been the first face to come to mind. Now, however, Ezra had taken that coveted spot and Crowley had  _ no  _ intentions of letting him go again. Theresa “aww”-ed sadly and patted his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry to hear it,” she smiled, trying to bring his spirits back up.

Crowley opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what, but was immediately silenced by the stage curtain parting and a child toddling out on stage to deliver the traditional narration. He could feel Theresa lean closer as she whispered, “The narrator’s my niece, and I’m out tonight to support her. Which one is yours?”

Crowley leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as Gabriel (the character  _ and  _ the man) descended from the rafters. “Not sure yet,” he replied.

Theresa’s face fell in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what did you mean by that?” she asked. “You don’t even know what role your own  _ child  _ is playing?!”

Crowley choked and jolted, whipping around to stare at her. “‘Ch-child’?  _ No!  _ My  _ husband  _ has a role tonight! I meant that I don’t know what role  _ he  _ has! He was really embarrassed about it and wouldn’t tell me!”

Theresa seemed somewhat mollified by his statement, but still looked at him with guarded suspicion. Suddenly her eyes flickered to the stage and that suspicion morphed to outright bafflement. 

She pointed. “Is that him?”

Crowley turned around, excited, but then that excitement was metaphorically slapped out of his body and replaced with confusion. Ezra stood front and center beneath Gabriel, but he was…

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is this one of God’s messengers?”

He kneeled on stage, wearing a long blue robe and a curly, shoulder-length blonde wig that looked like it had seen better days.

Crowley bit down on his knuckle before he could let loose the cacophonous laughter that was bubbling in the back of his throat. He doubled-over with a gurgling choke and Theresa smacked his back.

After Gabriel (successfully!) delivered his message, Ezra stood up and padded across the stage to where Medina, playing Joseph, was waiting for him.

“Husband, I have joyous news! The Lord has seen fit to grace me with a child!” Ezra declared.

Medina hummed thoughtfully and stroked his large, fake beard, causing several children in the audience to giggle. Crowley smiled and relaxed in his seat. He wasn’t sure if it was pure luck or magic on his angel’s part, but the play was - so far - going off without a single hitch. 

He wasn’t even disappointed by the lack of chaos.

As Ezra and Medina continued their joint monologue, Theresa whispered again, “Who is that fellow playing Joseph?”

Crowley tamped down the surge of annoyance at her interruption and replied, “Carlos Medina. He’s a friend of ours. Nice guy. Really charming.”

He turned back to the stage and enjoyed a full thirty seconds of blissful silence before Theresa was piping up again.

“Well he’s certainly quite good.  _ Far  _ better than that  _ other  _ Joseph,” she said. “From what I hear, about three years ago, there was another gentleman who had his role. For the life of me, I can’t remember what his name was but, as I’m told, he was  _ dreadful.  _ He kept breaking set pieces, fumbling his lines, couldn’t sing worth a  _ whit- _ ”

Crowley’s head whipped around so fast that his glasses were almost dislodged from their perch on his nose. He pointed a threatening finger at her.

“Oi! You take that  _ back _ !” he snarled. “My angel’sssss voice is  _ perfect!  _ I will  _ not  _ stand for you insssulting him!”

“Goodness, me! You have a lisp!” Theresa chirped. “Is it from an injury or some other speech impediment? If so, I know an  _ excellent  _ Language Therapist who can help you correct that  _ horrible  _ condition! Would you like her number?”

Crowley curled his finger back into a fist and his eyes flashed behind his lenses.

“I  _ don’t  _ have a- I’m not- it’sssss a-”

He growled impotently and returned to watching the performance. Beneath his shirt, he could feel his scales creeping up the length of his spine and he fought to keep himself under control. 

_ Last thing this church needs is a five meter serpent wrecking the place… _

By this point in the play, Ezra and Medina were going door-to-door in Bethlehem, searching for lodging. Crowley allowed himself to relax just a tiny amount, though annoyance still simmered under his skin like a pot ready to boil over. He smiled at the sight of Ezra leaning back a little and caressing the beach ball (less poppable, beachballs) under his robe as Medina was once again rejected from a too-full inn. 

Without his conscious awareness of doing so, Crowley found his mind drifting to what the woman sitting behind him had said earlier, when she accused him of not knowing what role his child was playing in the performance. While he and Ezra hadn’t discussed children yet, the thought of having them was doing funny things to Crowley’s insides. He thought back to that silly little prank the two of them had pulled with the stork eggs, and his chest grew warm at the memory.

He was cruelly wrenched from happy thoughts about hypothetical children by Theresa tapping his shoulder -  _ again! _ \- and whispering something -  _ again!! _ This time, however, he elected to pretend he didn’t hear and stared straight ahead at his mate’s faux-pregnant waddle across the stage. This continued two more times, before Theresa lost her patience.

“It’s  _ rude  _ to ignore people,” she huffed.

Crowley didn’t care about being rude, so he did just that, though his anger and frustration were rapidly reaching a boiling point.

_ Just  _ when he thought he’d  _ finally  _ be left alone for good, Theresa said something  _ else  _ (most likely another criticism of his behavior) and Crowley snapped, “Can’t you just  _ shut up _ ?!”

Theresa sniffed and turned up her nose. “I’ll have you know, good sir, that I was once a member of the prestigious order of the Chattering Nuns of St. Beryl! We do  _ not  _ ‘just shut up’. We say what is on our minds!”

“Well that explains why you’re so irritating…” Crowley grumbled, frowned, and turned away for what he fully intended to be the final time.

Right up until the former nun scoffed, “It’s  _ also _ rude to be wearing  _ sunglasses indoors _ .”

“Well so is talking shit, Sister Theresa!”

“Hey, fuck you  _ and  _ fuck your husband’s awful acting!”

Crowley snapped.

_ “That doessss it!” _

He launched himself at Theresa who was, apparently, eagerly anticipating it. She landed a wicked right hook to the side of his temple as the two of them smashed into the folding chairs with a calamitous crash.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was all set to wrap up the final act of the Nativity Play and go home for the evening, when the sounds of a violent struggle reached his ears. Beside him, Medina shrieked, “Crowley, what the  _ fuck  _ are you doing?!”

Ezra looked out over the audience and saw a tall blonde man standing between Crowley and an unknown woman, keeping them from tearing each other to pieces. His husband was hissing angrily and the woman was spitting curses at him and chattering. Ezra lowered himself off the stage (the beach ball under his clothes made it somewhat difficult) and he stumbled into the melee.

“Crowley! What on  _ Earth  _ is going on?” he demanded to know, sidling up beside the man attempting to break up the fight.

“That  _ beasssst  _ wouldn’t stop  _ talking _ !” Crowley growled.

“That  _ cad  _ was being  _ extremely rude _ !” the woman declared.

“Alright, you two, break it up! Break it up!” the blonde man said. “This is a  _ church  _ for pity’s sake! You can’t just…” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Ezra at the same time the angel got a good look at him. “Holy shit…  _ Ezra _ ?”

Ezra winced and Crowley jabbed a thumb at the other man. “You know this guy, angel?”

“H-hello, Thomas,” Ezra stammered.

Crowley’s brain took a moment to catch up. When it did, his eyes narrowed threateningly at Thomas and he took a step closer to his mate. To Ezra’s surprise (and slight confusion), Crowley placed an instinctively protective hand over the beach ball.

“ _ Thomassss.  _ Ezra’ssss told me about you,” he said with menace, and slipped his other arm around his mate’s shoulder.

Thomas glanced between them with a nervous laugh.

“All good things, I trust?”

He was met with awkward silence.

“It’s… surprising to see you here,” Ezra said, attempting to defuse the tension. He pulled the wig and cap off his head, allowing his curls to spring free. “Do you have a relative performing?”

“No, actually,” Thomas admitted with a nervous rub to the back of his head. “I was… well… I read in the paper that you were ‘back from the dead’, as it were, and came here when I heard through the grapevine that you’d be performing tonight. I was hoping I’d get a chance to see you again.”

Ezra blinked dumbly. “Well, er, that’s-”

“My mate doesssn’t need some  _ asshole  _ that thought he was too good for him!” Crowley jumped in, and Ezra, for what might be the first and only time in his marriage, was thankful that his husband interrupted him.

Thomas, however, didn’t seem to understand and his mouth quirked up in the corners slightly as he looked at Crowley. “Oh, mates? So he’s just your friend?”

Crowley hissed furiously, wrenching his shades off to reveal glowing, serpentine eyes and Thomas scrambled backwards with a whimpered, “ _ Holy shit!” _

Ezra rolled his  _ own  _ eyes at his husband’s dramatics and snapped his fingers. Thomas and the woman’s faces glazed over for a second before they both stumbled off in random directions. The angel snapped his fingers a second time and all in attendance forgot about the physical altercation. He even went a step further to implant a false memory of a perfectly lovely Nativity Play that concluded with no major hiccups wherein a good time was had by all.

Such thorough magic expenditure, however, had Ezra swaying on his feet for a moment as he was overcome with a brief bout of dizziness. “Goodness. Shouldn’t have pushed myself with that last bit,” he said tiredly, and leaned against his husband for support.

In an instant, Crowley’s anger was gone, replaced with gentle concern.

“You alright there, angel? Seeing that prick again didn’t upset you too much, did it?” he asked.

“No, no, I’m fine. I moved on from Thomas quite some time ago. I just didn’t expect to run into him after he broke up a fight between you and some strange, talkative woman,”

Crowley’s tongue darted out nervously and he slipped his sunglasses back on. “Sorry about that, angel. But she really  _ was  _ a nuisance. Said a lot of mean things, too…”

“It’s quite alright, my love,” Ezra patted his arm fondly. “Just  _ please  _ don’t go around picking fights with strangers anymore. This isn’t the 18th century.”

“She said your singing was bad,” Crowley smirked.

Ezra fell silent. In the metaphysical realm, his wings puffed indignantly. “Well… I suppose she deserved it, then. Thank you for holding back, at least. I doubt I could magic away a broken neck.”

Crowley threw back his head with a laugh as Ezra snapped his fingers, replacing his beach ball/robe combo with the warm winter clothes he’d been wearing earlier.

“ _ That’s  _ the bastard I know and love,” Crowley chuckled, gathering up his own winter-wear that had been scattered haphazardly during the fight. Ezra helped him re-dress in his protective gear, then the two of them made their way out into the night. “Quick question, though, did you  _ also  _ give Medina and Gabriel those fake memories?”

“Well… yes. They both worked  _ so hard  _ on this play and I’d hate for them to not have a good experience…”

“I love you so much, angel, you know that right?”

Later that night the two of them would return home to their flat to recount the story to Crowley’s sisters, Theresa would congratulate her niece on an excellent performance, and Thomas would be stuck for the rest of the week with the strangest sense that he had missed his chance years ago for something spectacular...


	39. Epilogue Chapter 3: Neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Medina team up to mess with a homophobic neighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for Homophobic Behavior from a terrible person.
> 
> This chapter is for Zyla_Moonstone, who requested Crowley and Ezra hanging out with the gang again and interacting with their neighbors.

Medina adjusted the flowers in his hand and knocked on the door to Crowley and Ezra’s flat. From beyond the door, he could hear the sounds of music playing and several voices raised in friendly chatter. After a moment, the door swung open and Crowley leaned jauntily against the door frame.

“Boat Human! Fashionably late, I see,” he said, a note of playful teasing in his tone.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Medina said. He stepped past Crowley into the living room. “One of the apprentices fell overboard during a routine drill and I had to fish him out. Do you have _any_ idea how difficult it is to get saltwater out of your hair?”

Crowley gave him a flat stare, and Medina coughed embarrassedly. “Right.’Course you do. Sorry.” In an effort to save himself any further faux-paus, Medina held out the bouquet in his hands. “Got anywhere to put these? Consider it a present for today’s flat-warming party.”

Crowley glanced down at the red, blue, and yellow flowers: Carnations[1], Nile Lilies[2], and Daffodils[3], respectively. He took the offered bouquet and gestured for Medina to follow him into the kitchen.

“Don’t have a vase, but I’m sure we can find a bowl or something,” Crowley stated.

The music grew louder as they approached, and Medina could see that it was piping from a cylindrical speaker on the counter. Anathema and Ezra stood beside it, chatting animatedly around it and nursing red Solo cups in their hands.

“Fell!” exclaimed Medina happily. He pulled the blonde into an embrace who returned it with gusto.

“Medina, my good fellow! I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t make it on time!” Ezra said, putting his drink down to better hug his friend.

“Wouldn’t miss you and Crowley’s party for the _world,”_ Medina said, stepping back. “It’s been, what, two weeks since you two came back to London? Can’t believe we’re only just _now_ all getting together to celebrate!”

“I _know!_ I used to see Ana at least once or twice a week and Tracy every other day before I fell overboard. It’s a shame that I don’t have my old flat anymore…” Ezra sighed.

Anathema playfully slugged his arm. “Hey, cut Gabe some slack. You were ‘dead’ and he couldn’t just _keep_ an empty flat forever! It only makes sense for him to have sold it.”

Ezra rubbed his arm - Anathema’s “friendly” punches tended to be somewhat harsh. “I know, Ana dear, I know. At least I’m still in Soho, so I really can’t complain. Though I _do_ miss having Tracy for a neighbor.”

“I miss you too, dearie!” Tracy shouted from the living room where she was conversing with Shadwell and Gabriel. Ezra waved.

“Speaking of neighbors, how are the ones here? I was thinking of maybe retiring from the service soon and settling down in the area,” Medina said and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempted nonchalance.

Crowley suddenly _slammed_ the bowlful of flowers down on the kitchen counter with a frustrated growl.

“Don’t get me sssssssstarted on the _neighbors!”_ he snarled, glaring at the wall as if he could see _through it_ into the next-door flat.

“Oh _hush,_ you silly serpent. The neighbors are all fine,” Ezra quickly chided. “Although… there is _one_ woman who’s been giving us trouble…”

Crowley’s chest rumbled as he spat out the name _“Karen ”_ like it was poison in his mouth.

“Yes, her. She’s been somewhat of a thorn in our side since day one,” Ezra mumbled.

Anathema’s face pinched in concern. “Really, Ez? This is the first _I’m_ hearing about it. What’d she do?”

“What _didn’t_ she do?!” Crowley said peevishly. “She _hatessss_ my sisters and calls them vermin, keeps giving my angel passive-aggressive stares when they encounter each other, _glares_ out her living room window at me as I walk by, I could go on!”

“Wow, what a bitch,” Anathema said angrily.

 _“And_ homophobic,” Ezra added, hands curled into idignant fists at his sides. “She’s acting this way because she found out we’re two men married to _each other_.”

_“No!”_

Medina and Anathema made matching cries of outrage and Ezra nodded sagely.

“Yes, unfortunately. She was actually rather sweet upon first meeting…”

***~*~*~*~***

**2 Weeks Ago**

Ezra hefted a box in his arms and hip-checked the flat door open. Further inside, in the direction of the bedroom, he could hear Crowley shoving the bed frame across the floor to different spots at his sisters’ insistence.

_“It should be under the window! There’s more warm sunshine that way!”_

_“No, because it will wake them up by shining in their eyes! Move it over THERE, Brother!”_

“Ugh…”

Ezra chuckled and lowered the box to the floor, careful not to rattle its contents.

“Knock knock!” came an unrecognizable voice.

The angel whirled around to see a woman standing in the open doorway, bearing some kind of covered casserole dish. Ezra’s first impression of her was simply, “grey”.

She had on a plain _grey_ dress, with dark _grey_ eyes, and shoulder-length hair that had been artificially dyed platinum blonde, with very obvious streaks of _grey_ at the temples. She seemed pleasant enough, however, so Ezra straightened up and gave her a friendly smile.

“Hello, good madam. May I help you?” he asked.

The woman shifted her casserole dish to her hip and extended a hand. “Hello! I’m Karen Lawson! I live in the apartment just two doors down and across from you!”

By her accent, Ezra could tell that she was American. That, in itself, did not mark her as anything bad; Anathema herself was Mexican-American, having moved to London to attend University with Ezra before dropping out to open her own successful business.

The angel stepped forward and shook her hand.

“Ezra Fell. A pleasure to meet you Mrs.-”

“Oh, no. Just Ms. Divorced,”

“Ah. Terribly sorry to hear that,”

Ezra went to say something else, when he heard Dorothy slithering out of the bedroom.

_“Brother-Mate! We need advice! Do you think the bed should go by the closet or by the-”_

Karen shrieked and almost dropped her dish, causing Dorothy to dart up Ezra’s pant-leg to hide in his sock.

 _“Mr. Fell!_ There’s a _snake_ in your boot!” the woman gasped.

“That’s no ‘snake’! That’s _Dorothy!_ She’s my-”

_Goodness, I can’t really call her my sister-in-law, can I?_

“-my friend.” Ezra finished lamely.

Karen sniffed disdainfully and turned up her nose. “Can’t say _I_ approve of having wild animals running about the home. How does your _wife_ feel about this?”

Ezra crossed his arms.

“As a matter of fact-”

“Angel! I’ve got the bed all set up!” Crowley called from the other room. “How about you and I send my sisters to Anathema’s and we break it in?”

“We have a _guest,_ my darling!” Ezra shouted back.

“What? Who is it?”

“A neighbor, here to welcome us!”

“Oh, uh… Should probably put some pants on then, huh? That’s a human thing, right? Wearing pants around guests?”

Ezra chuckled nervously at the baffled look Karen gave him.

“He’s just making silly jokes,” he said.

Crowley sauntered out of the bedroom then (though it was more of an upright wobble - he was still getting used to having legs again), clad in nothing but a pair of black shorts and matching spaghetti-strap tank top that showed off a strip of flat stomach. His sunglasses were, thankfully, affixed to his face.

“Hey there. Anthony J. Crowley-Fell, nice to meet you. I see you’ve met my husband,” he stated, moving forward for a hand-shake.

Karen, however, took a step back.

“‘Husband’?” she parroted with disbelief.

“Yup. Married earlier this week. Decided to skip the honeymoon,” Crowley said proudly, draping one arm over Ezra’s shoulder and hooking his other hand through the elastic of his own shorts.

Karen glanced between the two of them, searching for something, though neither of the two men could say what. Finally, her face took on a look of stoicism and she walked out of the flat with a curt, “I think I left my oven on”, taking the casserole dish with her.

Crowley watched her go. “Yeesh. What’s got her knickers in a twist?”

Dorothy poked her head out of Ezra’s sock.

_“I don’t like her. She called me a ‘wild animal’,”_

Crowley’s furious hiss could be heard three flats down, though most just chalked it up to a leaky steam pipe.

***~*~*~*~***

“Since then, that _awful woman's_ been nothing but trouble,” Ezra said, brow furrowed in consternation.

Medina looked physically repulsed. “That’s _horrible!_ Crowley, can I speak to you for a moment?”

Ezra and Anathema blinked in surprise at the naval captain’s sudden segue as Medina tugged Crowley out of the kitchen by the crook of his elbow.

When they were out of earshot, the redhead yanked his arm back. “Oi, quit with the pulling, Boat Human! What do you need that you can’t ask me in front of Ezra?”

Medina stared at him. “Do you know anybody who can pick locks?”

“Er, well, I think Shadwell can, but so can I. Why?” Crowley asked, befuddled.

Medina’s eyes flickered to the front door with a devilish smirk.

“How do you feel about terrorizing a homophobe?”

***~*~*~*~***

It took a few more days of careful plotting, subtle observation, and discreet phone calls between Crowley and Medina before the two of them could put their plan into action. Ezra had caught on _pretty quickly_ that his husband and friend were up to something mischievous, but he quickly put it out of his mind. So long as nobody got hurt, what business was it of his what they got up to?

One evening, Crowley watched through the living room blinds as Karen locked her front door and made her way down to her car. Every Sunday evening around 8:30, Karen left her flat for Evening Mass followed by whatever it was that stuck-up church biddy’s did in their free time. She normally didn’t come back until 10, which gave Crowley and Medina ample time to enact their scheme.

The redhead fired off a quick text.

Eight minutes later, Medina rapped smartly on the door (four slow knocks and two quick ones) and Crowley stepped out to meet him.

“You got everything you need to pick the lock on her door, Big Guy?” Medina asked.

Crowley didn’t answer, in favor of striding over to Karen’s door, seizing the knob in his hand, and wrenching the thing out of the wood like he was peeling a sticker off a banana. He kicked the door open and gave a sarcastic bow.

“See? Lock picked,”

Medina opened and closed his mouth several times before he gave up and sighed in resignation. He peered into Karen’s darkened living room and, seeing no signs of security cameras (hidden or otherwise) he stepped inside. 

“Ugh. Looks _exactly_ like I imagined it would,” he grumbled.

All the furniture was decorated in hideous pink and yellow paisleys and covered in plastic. The walls were studded with various ornamental crucifixes, and a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign hung over the entrance to the kitchen. There was a boxy television that looked like it had been ripped straight out of the eighties, quietly playing a Kenneth Copeland sermon. Medina eyed it with obvious disgust. “I didn’t even know we _got_ that channel this far from America.”

“Are we gonna do this, or are you just going to sit around commenting on my neighbor’s complete lack of taste?” Crowley whispered, leaning close to be heard.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll set up the cameras and get out of sight. How are your acting chops?” Medina asked, withdrawing his phone.

Crowley gave him a fangy grin almost wide enough to split his face at the seams.

***~*~*~*~***

Fifteen minutes past ten, Karen strolled back to her flat, humming a psalm under her breath. The service itself had been lovely, but she couldn’t help but feel that Pastor Robin was being a bit _too_ PC with the whole, “We must love our Muslim siblings” angle. Still, it wouldn’t do to go changing churches so late into her life, though she did miss the good old fashioned “Hellfire and Brimstone” sermons from back in the day.

As she came up to her flat, she saw the doorknob laying warped and discarded on the ground. Her door was open a crack and Karen cautiously approached. _Rational_ sense would dictate that she flee the premises and call 999, but when has a Karen _ever_ been rational?

She pressed a trembling hand to the door and it creaked slowly open under her touch. She took a cautious step inside the darkness of her living room…

...and froze.

Curled up on her living room rug as if it _owned the place_ was a _massive_ serpent, easily 15 feet long! Black scales with a red underbelly attached to a human torso that _vaguely_ looked like her neighbor, Mr. Crowley (she _refused_ to add on the “Fell” as two men _surely_ couldn’t be _really_ married). However, this creature’s eyes were entirely gold from end to end, with a pupil like a knife slash right down the middle. When it saw her, a long, forked tongue licked at it’s needle-thin fangs.

“Sssssssso _good_ that you could join me tonight, Ms. Lawson,” the creature purred.

Karen instinctively crossed herself. “Y-you… d-d-demon…”

The creature laughed in a voice like wind rustling over dead leaves; cold and menacing.

“Then you mussssssst know why I’m here…” he hissed, lowering himself down to the floor.

He clawed himself towards the quaking woman, who backed away towards the front door.

 _“Stay back_ or I’ll- I’ll-” Karen stammered, eyes clenched tight to block out the monstrous visage.

Crowley lifted himself up on his tail to tower over her. “You’ll _what?_ Sssprinkle some Holy Water on me? Sssay a prayer or two? I think you’ll find that I’m quite imperviousssss to such things.”

He leaned down until he was close enough for her to count the individual freckles dusting his nose. “But do _you_ think you can sssssurvive _me?”_

Karen’s already fragile courage shattered and she bolted from the flat, screaming and running like the Devil himself was at her heels (and as far as she knew, he was). 

She didn’t hear a pair of triumphant laughs or the sounds of a naga shifting back into human form.

***~*~*~*~***

Later that night, Crowley lay in his and Ezra’s bed, tail looped around his mate as it so often was before they fell asleep. Ezra held his phone in his hands, watching the video that Medina had sent him. The angel had kept up a front of stern disapproval for their actions… for all of ten seconds. Then he’d burst into guffaws and re-played the video no less than five times.

“Would it be alright if I sent this to Ana? I think she’ll appreciate it almost as much as I do,” he said, kissing his husband on the temple, right above his snake tattoo.

“Go right ahead, angel. It’s _your_ video, after all,” Crowley answered, giving the blonde an affectionate squeeze.

Ezra gave a little wiggle of delight and sent it off to Anathema.

“As reckless as that was, I _do_ appreciate the both of you going through all the trouble,” Ezra said happily.

“You know I’d do anything for you, angel,” Crowley replied, flicking at a mist-colored curl. “Though, I have to say, this was as much for me as it was for you. I know it sounds kinda mean, but I _like_ scaring humans.”

Ezra hummed thoughtfully, then placed his phone on the nightstand. “In that case, we should go to America this October. I want to introduce you to this _great_ thing called ‘Halloween’.”

***~*~*~*~***

1"Alas, poor heart."[return to text]

2"Secret Love"[return to text]

3"Regard", "Unrequited Love", and "Respect"[return to text]


	40. Epilogue Chapter 4: Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For wired_tired_witchcraft, who wanted to know how the press/media would react upon discovering that Ezra was still alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put, like, a SHIT TON of memes/easter eggs in here lol. Also, all names/usernames are made up.

**EZRA Z. FELL, BELOVED AUTHOR, FOUND ALIVE!**

LiteraryNewsExclusive

**Repomanopera** : !!!!!!! No fucking way!

 **Zima Kenomos:** IS HE GOING TO WRITE MORE?

 **Alex Chambers:** Wow! This is incredible, but is it true? From the article, all we have to go on is a blurry photograph of someone who MAY be him. Has Fell himself come forward with a statement? (Assuming he IS alive) And who’s that other guy in the photo with him?

 **joel west:** idk, but it kind of looks like David Tenant

 **Alex Chambers:** You’re right! It DOES!

 **StarMakerExtraordinaire:** i don’t want to get my hopes up ;~;

 **roostermycock:** I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL! BUT PLEEEEASE BE TRUE!

  
  
*~*~*~*~*

@ **OBHNews** **:** Is this sharply dressed fellow spotted in St. James Park the long-dead author Ezra Z. Fell? Or sources say YES! #undeadliterature

@ **elementarymydearwatson:** does anyone know if this is true??? it’s still just a pic????

  
*~*~*~*~*  
  


**EZRA Z. FELL-CROWLEY CONFIRMED ALIVE IN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW!**

BusyBee Celeb News

**Kieran Gordon:** ummm… so it turns out ezra fell was never dead???? WAT??????

 **Sara H.:** Wait, is this, like… for real? I haven’t read the article yet.

 **liat gaster:** it’s real i cANNOT BELIEVE THIS

 **FleshPrinceofBelScare:** I get that everyone’s super excited about Ezra being alive, but can we just talk about that redhead with him? LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY ARE TOGETHER! Are they together? I don’t care, they’re PERFECT!

*~*~*~*~*  
  


**Interview With Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley, Author of “The Mermaid’s Tale” and Castaway Survivor**

CBB News

**GoodGollyGosh777:** lol are all yall stupid or what? fell is obviously lying about what happened to him, just look at him! he looks like a teenager caught sneaking out and is fumbling for an excuse as to why he got home so late

 **komododragon:** yeah. this is DEF suspicious

 **BlueSweater:** i’m usually not one to dive headfirst into crazy conspiracies, but there is something DEFINITELY funny going on…

 **mydarling:** calling it now. Peeps r gonna start shipping him with that redhead guy. I guarantee it. Tho… just out of professional curiosity… what would their ship name be?

 **chatterbox:** well, if we don’t know the other guy’s name, we can’t give them one. i’ve just been calling him “sunglasses”. So like… maybe SunFell?

 **mydarling:** good enuff 4 me! #SunFell 5eva!

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **CBBNews** **:** For those who missed it, catch the August 18th interview with Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley tonight at 9 on Channel 4! #Backfromthedead

@ **ezfellfan:** i hope this “back from the dead” thing makes his books even more popular

@ **derivitavederision:** ARE YOU INSANE?!?!?!?

@ **ezfellfan:** don’t be such a dick! #Backfromthedead

*~*~*~*~*  
  


**What HAS Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley Been Up To?**

The Ernest Adams Radio Hour

**Tao Shuren:** Awwww that guy with Ezra is so cute! Calling him “angel” all the time! ^^

 **loveisalightfromheaven:** I know, right?! Strange that he ONLY calls him that, though…

 **billygoatsgruff:** they’re so OBVIOUSLY #married!

  
*~*~*~*~*  
  


**“The Mermaid’s Tale” Author Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley Opens Up About How He Met His Husband! - London Lit Con FULL VIDEO**

London Events and Gatherings

**RikkiTikkiTembo:** I’m so glad that he’s okay! I own ALL his books! (Yes, even “Glass Bones and Paper Skin” lol). Do you think he’ll make more? ‘Cause if so, GIMME!

 **Bethany Webb:** i was actually there in the audience in the front row! If you pause at 41:00, you can see me holding up the “WE MISSED YOU” sign!

 **nicole davidson:** OMG LUCKY! What was his husband like up close?

 **Bethany Webb:** Suuuuper cute! Fell’s a lucky man!

 **wizardsfamiliar:** Do we know who it was that rescued him? I want to shake that guy’s hand!

 **holyholyholy:** it was his husband, actually.

 **wizardsfamiliar:** HOLY SHIT REALLY?!?!?!?! OMG THAT’S TOO CUTE!!!

 **holyholyholy:** i KNOW right?????

 **my2dads:** *Sniffs the air* I can already SMELL the RPF comin’... >o>

 **shadesindoors:** *Covers your face with a pillow* ssshhh… just let it happen…

 **intothewoods:** *Adds own weight to pillow*

 **starcrossed:** looking forward to those sweet, sweet “Dashing Rescue” RPF’s…

 **lesbianme:** Bold of you to assume I haven't already written one @my2dads

  
*~*~*~*~*  
****

**Good Morning Universe - Ezra and Anthony Crowley-Fell On How He Went Missing**

ZYX News in the Morning

**Lola Duncan:** I’m so happy to hear that Ezra’s back? But why did he hide in the first place? Was he really that stressed?

 **jellyworlddoesntexist:** possibly… do you think he was in hiding from the mafia?

 **helpimtrappedinacommentfactory:** mafia? really?

 **jellyworlddoesntexist:** what? its just as likely as stress!

 **heartattack:** LOOOOL ‘“MAFIA”?! I CAN’T EVEN XD

 **jellyworlddoesntexist:** dicks #fuckyouboth

 **imsogay:** ISN’T ANYONE GONNA ASK WHERE TF ANTHONY CAME FROM

 **jellyworlddoesntexist:** rival mafia

 **helpimtrappedinacommentfactory:** gdi @jellyworlddoesntexist

 **jellyworlddoesntexist:** LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

 **ezrafangirl91:** Okay, so… was anyone gonna tell me that Ezra was gay or was I just supposed to find this out on my own from a TV show?

  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
****

**ezra fell-crowley: castaway survivor, or MAFIA MEMBER**

YouTube

**hungrymaya:** I thought he stayed in hiding because of stress, but now… I’m not so sure…

 **Abbie Rogers:** ugh, same. these conspiracy videos are like crack to me

 **HellinaCell:** op makes a good point in his video. there’s TOO MANY HOLES in fell’s story… like… why didn’t he just come clean in the first place???

 **historicqueererasure:** Okay, I think I figured it out!! Ezra fell overboard, washed up on an abandoned island, and THAT’S where he met his husband! BUT that’s not ALL to the stor… [READ MORE]

 **texasheat:** really? can you NOT with the stupid theories?

 **travelbynight:** yeah. anthony as a half-snake monster? REALLY?

 **anthonyandezra:** this video got me ALLLL kinds of fucked up! #revealthetruth

 **tinybabytoes:** okay, so, we all know that fell’s lying to us, that much is a given. my question is WHY

 **jelliclemoon:** WTF is WITH this comment?!?!? We DON’T know Fell is lying!

 **tinybabytoes:** did you WATCH the video

 **potatoesrneat:** im with @jelliclemoon fell could be telling the truth

 **fuckyeahthemermaidstale:** HEAR ME OUT WHAT IF FELL AND CROWLEY AREN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED BUT ARE PRETENDING TO BE BECAUSE [READ MORE]

 **snowwhite:** #conspiracytime What if Fell WAS in the mafia, and Crowley was too, but they secretly fell in love and faked their own deaths to get away from a hit placed on them and only just now came back because Crowley killed the guy who put out the hit?

 **pancakepolicydicksnshit:** that makes, like, a SCARY amount of sense!

 **itscallednuance:** THIS WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD IDEA FOR A NEW EZRA FELL-CROWLEY NOVEL!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **anthonyandezra:** you read my mine @itscallednuance

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **ZBDTabloids** **:** Proof of Mafia Connections? - Ezra Fell-Crowley Seen Entering Pet Store Then Leaving With Five Heat Lamps

@ **fallenfromgrace:** ………………………………....how tf this point to mafia connections?

@ **calientepocket:** so he’s got pet snakes? big whoop! 

@ **justnomasters:** what, is he selling lamps on the black market? Looooool

@ **darkestnight:** hot take: this proves the whole ‘anthony is a snake-man’ theory

@ **delicioso:** nah, he’s just got pet snakes. he posts pics of them on his insta

@ **darkestnight:** oh shit, really? got the link so i can see? :D

*~*~*~*~*  
  


**is ezra z. fell-crowley a LITERAL angel**

YouTube

**Ella Brooks:** I LIKE THIS BETTER THAN THE “MAFIA” THEORY!!!!!!!!

 **ReadingObssessed:** I mean, his husband calls him “angel” all the time. It makes perfect sense!

 **UrsaMinor:** he looks like one too!

 **justataste:** This is stupid.

 **fluffyducklings:** YOUR stupid

 **justataste:** *You’re

 **fluffyducklings:** STFU!!!!!!

 **loveislove:** hear me out… what if it’s both? what if he’s mafia AND an angel?

 **blessedbyGod:** THIS IS THE FRESHEST TAKE YET

*~*~*~*~*

**Literature’s Hottest Couple Ezra and Anthony Crowley-Fell Talk About Their Time in Hiding**

Caffeine Dream Magazine

**WhatUpImJared:** Do you SEE the way those two look at each other? AAAAAA!!!

 **Alice H.:** I KNOW! Ezra looks at his husband like he’s so proud of his handsome man!

 **Iris Ferrandis:** anthony looks at ezra like he’ll disappear if he looks away

 **writertobe:** THEY MAKE SUCH A LOVELY COUPLE :)

 **eternitaaaaay:** WHY ARE YOU TYPING IN ALL CAPS?

 **writertobe:** KEYBOARD BROKEN

 **eternitaaaaay:** MINE TOO

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **SheepleMagazine** **:** Who Is Ezra Fell’s Mysterious Husband?

@ **raspberryjuice:** i thought we all agreed that he was ex-mafia?

@ **burnedasawtich:** people need to stop with that theory. its dumb and hurtful

@ **raspberryjuice:** i dont see them crying about it but w/e

@ **subtlepuddle:** r we just gonna keep gossiping or are we gonna get some book news?

@ **hornofgondor:** #anthonyismafia

@ **sunshine99:** I thought EZRA was the mafioso?

@ **hornofgondor:** #anthonyisholdingezrahostage

@ **exedout:** you’re not serious are you?

@ **hornofgondor:** #anthonyismafiaandkidnappedezratoforcehimtomarryhim

@ **allaboard:** that is a TERRIBLE thing to say!

@ **curlyfries4life:** Should we, like, rescue him or something?

*~*~*~*~*

**Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley on Returning to the Writing Game**

National Academy of Writers

**Nicole Gallagher:** I’m so happy to have him back :,)

 **Silly Sam:** i bet his newest book will be about his experience falling overboard

 **HoustonHighway:** YES!!!!!!!

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **YourDailyPaper** **:** Is Anthony J. Crowley-Fell Holding His Husband Hostage?

@ **YasminaMorata:** Omg I hope this isn’t real!

@ **electriccinnamon:** IT BETTER NOT FUCKING BE

@ **nonsensecrystals:** it is a bit TOO coincidental that they “fell in love”

@ **steponmedaddy:** this is like, SUPER MEAN! they’re in LOVE!

@ **juliamylove:** I agree, but SOMETHING is off about those two…

@ **brotherbear:** why hasn’t ezra come forward to deny these accusations?

@i **mustacheyouaquestion:** Because he’s being held HOSTAGE!

@ **brotherbear:** oh shit! i hadn’t thought of that!

@ **scremz:** AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

@ **chocolatedoughnuts:** Why would Crowley do this, though? What’s the motive?

@ **entropycanhang:** MONEY

@ **chocolatedoughnuts:** That still doesn’t make sense.

@ **softnslow:** Okay, wow, this tweet is SO messed up!

@ **ismellaheretic:** how so?

@ **softnslow:** Crowley is head-over-heels for Ezra! He wouldn’t hurt him!

@ **2beornot2be:** I earned $300 a day doing surveys from home! Follow this link!

@ **berrytea:** stfu

@ **singledad:** God, I hate these spammers…

@ **imsoprettyandGAY:** #deletethistweet

@ **iambaby:** #seconded

@ **hangoutwithmeeee:** IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **TheWallgatePaper** **:** “Your Daily Paper” Office Destroyed in Lightning Strike

@ **donteversaymoistaroundme:** HOLY SHIT

@ **beammeupscotty:** i think there might be some truth to the “angel” theory…

@ **SourdoughDreams:** Remind me not to piss off Ezra…

@ **thetruth:** Can angels be plied with offerings of baked goods?

@ **C. Medina:** In my experience, yes.

@ **ANONYMOUSALCOHOLIC:** *Frantically Bakes Brownies*

*~*~*~*~*  
  


@ **NIGHTLINE** **:** 5 Meter Snake Skin Discovered in Soho Dumpster

@ **allsfairinloveandwar:** wftwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtfwtf

@ **mymom:** OMFG!!!!!!!!!

@ **hearthfire:** my family said i was crazy when i told them snakes could grow that big

@ **wlwmlmsolidarity:** we were wrong! GEEZ!

@ **hearthfire:** you owe me 20 quid julia

@ **bill:** kill it with fire

@ **jello4lube:** i’m screaming. honest to god screaming

@ **imhes:** wait dont ezra and anthony live in soho?

*~*~*~*~*

**Ezra Z. Fell-Crowley Photographed Dumping Giant Snake Skin in Dumpster**

Potpourri Magazine

**Holly Richardson:** ohhhhhmyyyygoooood why does he have that???

 **courtneythedom:** Damn! Just how big ARE his pet snakes?

 **Maddison Russel:** Is dumping a snake skin that big even legal?

 **AngelofSoho:** Oh dear… I didn’t think anyone was out that late...


	41. Epilogue Chapter 5: Down in New Orleans (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The husbands experience a minor break-in and Crowley discovers airplanes for the first time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the Halloween Chapter! :D ALSO SMUT! (Starts at "Ezra was half a glass..." and ends at the following "*~*~*~*~*")

**October 24th, 2021**

_“Psst!”_

“Mmm… angel, go back to sssleep…”

_“Psst! Wake up, dearies!”_

“Crowley… stop whispering…”

_“Guys!”_

“Tha’ssss not me,”

“Do ye think they’re dead, Miss Anathema?”

Crowley and Ezra’s eyes simultaneously shot open.

Anathema, Shadwell, and Tracy were practically _looming_ over their bed. Ezra made an undignified squeak and would have fallen out of it, had his husband’s tail not caught him before he could.

“For fuck’sssssssss _sake_! Why are you three in our bedroom?!” Crowley demanded angrily, shooting the three of them a glare full of (metaphorical) venom.

Ezra raised his eyebrows at the sight of them. “How on Earth did you even get into our flat?” he asked, thankful that he was still wearing his tartan pajamas.

Shadwell answered with a cheeky smile and held up his lockpicking tools. 

“Unlike _some of us_ \- Crowley - Shadwell can get in _without_ ripping off a doorknob and calling it ‘picking’,” Anathema scoffed.

“It gets me inside a locked door, doesn’t it?” Crowley snapped back.

“ _Perhaps_ we should tell these gentlemen why we’re here?” Tracy cut in, physically stepping between Anathema and the naga.

Nodding, but still sensing the desire to bring it up again later, the occultist turned to Crowley and Ezra.

“Halloween’s coming up in a week. Ez knows that I go back to America every year to celebrate, but I was thinking we could _all_ go this year!” she said. “You, me, Ezra, Shadwell, and Tracy! I was thinking a trip down to New Orleans would be fun!” 

“Ooh! That sounds like a _wonderful_ idea! I haven’t been back to the states since Gabriel was a teenager!” Ezra replied, eyes sparkling in delight.

Crowley fixed him with a confused stare. “‘States’? What states?”

Rather belatedly, Ezra was struck by the weighty realization that Crowley had been marooned almost sixty _years_ before the United States even _existed._ He felt faintly green at the thought of all the catching up his husband would have to do.

“And on _that_ matter… ‘New Orleans’? What happened to Orleans? Is it just called ‘Old Orleans’ now?!” Crowley asked worriedly. 

“This is probably gonna be awkward…” Anathema muttered, eyeing the naga like he’d combust once Ezra explained The American Revolution.

“Well… er… you recall the colonies, love?” Ezra asked, stomach dropping.

“Yeah? What of them?” Crowley replied. “Did the French finally give us back Newfoundland?”

Ezra shared a panicked glance with his human friends. “Not… not exactly…” he whimpered.

“Why not?”

“Because Canada has it now,” the blonde answered nervously.

“Who the _fuck_ is ‘Canada’?!”

*~*~*~*~*

**October 29th, 2021**

“Alright, let me get this straight…” Crowley began as he walked beside Ezra through the airport towards the TSA check. “The colonies got pissy that we were taxing them, so they rebelled and sicced the French on us and then declared themselves their own country, right?”

“Well, it’s a bit more nuanced than _that_ ,” Ezra muttered quietly.

“Whatever. So, after that, this _new_ country - ‘The United States of America’ - took over their chunk of the continent and broke it up into pieces and Canada is now their neighbor?”

Ezra could only gape in mute astonishment as he hefted their suitcases onto the X-Ray conveyor belt.

“Close enough,” he said, finally.

“Alright. I think I’ve got it,” Crowley said, watching their luggage disappear into the machine.

Beside it, a bored twenty-something observed the x-ray feed on his screen and, without looking up, asked, “Anything to declare?”

“Nothing at all,” Ezra said at the same time Crowley blurted, “I love my angel!”

Ezra and the TSA agent both cooed and the redhead was possessed with the distinct impression that that _wasn’t_ what the young man had meant by “declare”. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts with a grumble as the agent waved them through the metal detector.

After that, it was a short walk down to the tarmac where Tracy, Shadwell, and Anathema had already boarded. 

For a moment, before climbing up the steps into the plane, Crowley stood rooted to the spot, transfixed. “These are… _bigger_ than they look in the sky…”

“Indeed they are. Safer than driving a car, too,” Ezra replied, observing his husband’s face for any trace of uncertainty regarding their flight.

It was difficult to see past Crowley’s darkened lenses, but his body language indicated that he was slightly tense, but curious. 

“So we just… climb up those stairs and sit down? Then the plane goes into the air?” the redhead asked, with a hint of anticipation in his tone. 

“Indeed! I’ve worked a bit of magic so that the five of us all get to sit close-by!” Ezra said proudly.

With that, he looped one arm through Crowley’s, picked up his carry-on with the other, and together they walked up the stairs and into the plane. 

*~*~*~*~*

_“Attention, passengers! The Seatbelt Sign has now been activated. Please buckle in as we begin our flight,”_

Crowley clicked the halves of his seatbelt together and leaned back in his seat, white-knuckling the armrests.

“I thought you ssssssssssaid planes were _safe_!” he whimpered nervously.

“They are, my darling,” Ezra insisted.

“Then _why_ did we jussssssst sit through a whole safety seminar on what happens if we _crash_?!”

“It’s just a precaution. Better safe than sorry after all,” the angel said, his hands folded primly in his lap. “Besides…” he leaned over and kissed Crowley’s cheek. “...you’ve got a _guardian angel_ to protect you.”

“Yeah, Big Guy. Ez will keep us safe,” Anathema said from behind them. She wiggled a slender hand through the gap between the seats and patted Crowley’s shoulder gently.

The man opened his mouth to thank her for the words of wisdom, only to shut it again when the lights in the cabin dimmed as the plane’s engines started up.

“Whazzat? Wha’sssssssss goin’ on?!” he asked nervously.

“Cooee! We’re about to take off!” Tracy giggled with a clap of her hands.

Crowley let out a muffled yelp from behind his hands as the plane began rolling steadily forward down the tarmac. He stared out the round window and watched the airport going by. This was _so much scarier_ than a simple car or boat ride! Right as he began hyperventilating, a soft, warm hand laced its fingers through his.

“It’s alright, dearest,” Ezra whispered with a gentle smile.

Crowley cracked a weak grin that was trying too hard to appear unaffected. “Y-yeah. I know, ang _EEEEEELLL!”_

The last word jerked up an octave as Crowley was thrown fully back against his seat when the plane began to ascend. He felt his ears pop and the swooping feeling of weightlessness in his stomach. He screwed his eyes shut tight against the _awful_ sensation and mumbled frantic prayers to whoever would listen.

Beside him, Ezra stiffened slightly when he realized he could _hear_ Crowley’s entreaties to a higher power from inside his own head.

_Pleasepleaseplease don’t let us crash and burn. Please let this go alright. Please let this be over soon. Please don’t let anything bad happen to us..._

Ezra opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, unsure of what, if anything, he should say. Would it be embarrassing to Crowley if he told him? Would he consider it a violation of privacy? It became a moot point, as the plane levelled off and the engine’s rumble dimmed to a soft purr. The cabin lights came back on, as well as the “Unbuckle Seat Belts” indicator.

_“Attention Passengers: We have reached cruising altitude. You are now free to move about the cabin,”_

“Oh thank _Somebody!”_ Crowley gasped, and fumbled to unlock his seat belt with trembling hands.

Ezra did the same, shaking the pain out of his hand from where his husband had gripped it like a vice. “Did you know they serve drinks? I think we’ve earned one,” he said, voice thick with amusement.

“Aw, yiss!” Anathema cheered from behind him. “Gettin’ wasted a mile up!”

Shadwell grunted in affirmation, but didn’t say anything else. Ezra pressed the flight attendant button, then struck upon an idea.

*~*~*~*~*

Ezra was half a glass of (cheap) wine in, when he decided to enact his plan. He leaned in his seat to whisper into Crowley’s ear, “Have you ever heard of the ‘Mile High Club’, dearest?”

Crowley scrunched up his face at his own glass of wine, then subtly passed it over the seat behind him to Anathema, who snatched it up like Gollum with a fish.

“No. What’s that?” he asked.

Ezra smirked.

“Meet me in the loo and I’ll show you,” He gave his husband a wink. “Wait five minutes, then follow after me.”

The angel got up and strolled casually towards the bathroom, not bothering to look over his shoulder and see if Crowley understood his request. Entering the narrow room, he cast a quick bit of magic over the entire thing to ensure that any sounds from within would be unheard (as well as adding an extra square foot of floor space) and ducked inside before sitting on top of the closed toilet lid.

Five minutes later, on the dot, the door opened and Crowley scooted in, closing and locking it behind him.

“Smells like lemon polish in here,” the redhead sneered, looking around. “Alright, what’s this ‘Mile High Club’ and how do I joi-”

Crowley was cut off mid-question by Ezra sinking his hands into his red hair (as red as that terrible shiraz earlier) and yanking his face down for a deep kiss. The angel gasped when his husband began dragging lazy kisses across his jaw and down to his neck.

“I think I’m starting to understand how one joins this club,” Crowley purred against the sensitive skin.

“Good. Then we’re on the same page,”

Ezra tugged him back into another kiss while pushing Crowley backwards until the redhead’s slender hips collided with the bathroom counter. They were still joined at the mouth, even as their fingers began undoing each other’s trousers. Ezra was the first to succeed, and pulled Crowley’s shorts down until they were low enough to expose his husband’s hard length. Crowley groaned as if _not_ being fully pantsless was causing him agony, and kicked his shorts off the rest of the way. He hopped onto the counter. Ezra dug his fingers into Crowley’s bony (“I prefer the term ‘ _sculpted_ ’, darling”) hips and dragged him forward until he was caged in by his spread thighs which wrapped obediently around him.

“You’re _so gorgeous_ ,” Ezra whispered as he pressed butterfly-light kisses over his husband’s neck.

“I _need_ to feel you,” Crowley whined, sounding ruined.

Ezra pressed closer until their cocks rubbed together and he took them both in hand, reveling in the feel of it. Crowley’s hips twitched in little spasms.

“Oh, my _darling_ ,” Ezra breathed, and captured the other’s mouth in a kiss that started sweet, but quickly devolved into a wet tangle of tongues. The blonde’s knees felt weak from it, and he was thankful that Crowley’s arms and legs wrapped around him kept him upright.

Ezra unlatched their mouths, then bit at Crowley’s neck and magically slicked his hand as it stroked over the both of them. Crowley moaned and threw his head back, smashing it against the bathroom mirror and cracking the glass. The angel smiled around where he’d bitten down; he _loved_ seeing Crowley lose himself in their exertions.

Crowley, meanwhile, was utterly lost. He couldn’t feel the glass cracking beneath his head (not that it would harm him anyway with his angel looking out for him), nor the chill of the countertop on his bare arse. His body was pulled taut like a wire, already _so close_ to completion.

“A-angel… ‘m gonna-”

Ezra silenced him with a forceful kiss and that was enough to send him over. His cock twitched at the same time he did, coating his mate’s hand in a mixture of come and lube… and Ezra _just kept going!_ It was almost too much, but then the angel followed shortly thereafter, adding to the mess between their bodies.

Chests heaving, the two of them traded lazy, clumsy kisses as they came down from their mutual highs. Crowley cracked a grin, “That was-”

_“Attention Passengers: We will be experiencing a bit of turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts until it is once again safe to move about the cabin,”_

“Oh dear…” Ezra said with clear worry.

“‘Oh dear’? What does that mean? What’s ‘turbulence’? _Angel_?!”

The blonde didn’t get a chance to reply before the bathroom (and the plane it was attached to) gave a shuddering lurch. The toilet seat repeatedly jumped open and closed, filling the air with the sounds of clacking plastic and rattling walls. Crowley screamed and clung to his mate while Ezra tried desperately to soothe him.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, love. We’re _fine_. Just a little bit of shakiness is all…”

“ _AAAAAAAA!!”_

“There, there…”

The angel braced both hands on the counter to keep himself propped up as Crowley continued shrieking and squeezing him like a lifeline. Then, all at once, the turbulence stopped as quickly as it came.

_“Attention Passengers: We’ve exited the turbulence. You are once again free to move about the cabin,”_

“There, see? No harm done!” Ezra chirped, and pried Crowley’s bloodless fingers off of him.

The redhead was staring blankly ahead, eyes still somewhat glassed over in stunned fright. Finally, after a tense minute, he turned to him.

“C… can I put my pantsssss back on and- and can we go back to our ssseats now?” Crowley whimpered.

Ezra then remembered that both of them were still sans trousers and covered in each other’s spend.

“Yes. Right. Let me just…” He snapped his fingers and they were instantly cleaned and re-dressed. The mirror was repaired as well.

Crowley stood on wobbly legs that had _nothing_ to do with his orgasm and gripped Ezra’s hand as they snuck out of the bathroom and back to their seats.

*~*~*~*~*

After a bit of good-natured ribbing from Anathema and Tracy about his and Ezra’s “bathroom break”, Crowley was able to calm down for the most part. Now, however, he twisted and turned fitfully in his seat, unable to get comfortable enough for a nap.

Even after his mate had gently guided his head down onto his soft shoulder, Crowley _still_ couldn’t drift off. The terror from the turbulence had simply left him too riled up. He cast a pitiful glance up at Ezra, who was smiling affectionately.

“Hey, angel, do you think you could…” Crowley trailed off, tapping the center of his own forehead.

Ezra melted like warm chocolate. “Of _course_ , dearest,” he pressed a loving kiss to the space right between his husband’s eyes. “Sleep, and dream of whatever you like best.”

“You…” mumbled Crowley as the magic took its full effect.

He was asleep before Ezra could even pull his lips away.


	42. Epilogue Chapter 5: Down in New Orleans (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gets a new member...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, I didn't intend for the "Halloween Arc" to end up having a plot, but here ya go lol.
> 
> (Also, sorry I was gone for a few days. I had two gift fics to write!)
> 
> (Also, also, I have NO IDEA what constitutes interesting places to visit in Nola. I've never been, despite practically living right next door)

**October 30, 2021**

It was three in the God-forsaken morning when they managed to stagger, bleary-eyed, into the hotel. Anathema, Shadwell, and Ezra looked dead on their feet, and even the normally peppy Tracy was struggling to keep her spirits from flagging.

The only one  _ not  _ on the verge of collapse was Crowley, who had spent the entire 13-hour flight napping away under the power of an angelic forehead kiss. He was downright  _ bouncy _ , flitting from idea to idea as Ezra checked them all in.

“You think there’s still a pub or two open at this hour? What about restaurants? Maybe we can just walk around for a bit and-”

Ezra’s fingers clawed at the concierge’s counter hard enough to crack the wood. He sucked in a breath past clenched teeth.

“ _ Crowley, _ ” he said, with forced joviality. “Perhaps you should- er-  _ we  _ should let our human friends catch up on their sleep for a bit before we all go traipsing about the city.”

Anathema nodded frantically and Crowley’s smile fell slightly. “Oh, uh, right. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, dearie. We can’t all have your stamina,” Tracy said generously, patting Crowley’s arm.

Crowley looked like he was about to crack a lewd joke about his “stamina”, but everyone present was mercifully spared by the appearance of a bellhop with a cart.

“Hello there, folks! Allow me to help you bring your luggage to your rooms,” he said with a cheerful smile. It was the smile of a teenager with their first customer service job, before they discovered how Hellish working with people really was.

“Thanks, kid. Pretty sure I’ll  _ die  _ if I have to carry this wretched thing another step further,” Anathema groaned, hoisting her large suitcase onto the bottom rung of the cart.

Everyone else followed her example, and soon the gaggle of bedraggled adults were following a sixteen-year-old boy and his wobbly cart down the hall like the Pied Piper of Marriott. The group had barely gone a hundred feet, however, when one of the cart’s wheels popped loose, rolling away to a better life. The cart, of course, shuddered to a stop and would go no further.

“I’m so sorry!” stammered the bellhop. “I can go fetch another cart and we-”

“No need. I’ve got it,” Crowley stepped forward, crouched down beside the cart, slipped a hand under it, then lifted it up, balancing it on his palm as if it were nothing more than a dessert tray. “Where to?”

The bellhop let out a terrified squeak, scrambling backwards. His young soul, however, had yet to be corrupted by years of customer service work, so he was able to quickly return to his former cheerful persona.

“If you follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms!”

***~*~*~*~***

“ _ Finally _ ,” Ezra groaned, closing the suite door behind him.

Crowley stood in the middle of the room, staring out the large window into the lights of the city beyond. He placed his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on his heels with an appreciative whistle.

“That’s right impressive, that is,” he marvelled. “Buildings made of  _ steel _ …  _ Somebody,  _ I’ve been away too long.”

Ezra chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“They’re more than just steel, you know,” he said around a yawn.

He lifted a hand to snap and change into his pajamas (why waste physical effort when you had magic?) but Crowley was suddenly there, pinning him to the bedspread by his wrist.

“How about you and I…” he began, lowering his mouth to his mate’s until their lips brushed together. “...break thissss bed in?”

Before Ezra could say anything else, Crowley closed the distance between them, kissing him again and again. His kisses moved on down the column of his throat, then to the curve of his shoulder, tracing down his chest towards the buttons of his  _ tacky  _ floral-print shirt.

“What are you in the mood for tonight, angel? Because  _ I  _ was thinking-”

“Snrk!”

“Angel?”

“...”

“Angel?”

“...”

Crowley lifted his head and stared down at the man underneath him. 

It would appear that, somewhere between being pinned down and the first kiss, Ezra had fallen asleep. Cute, tiny snores squeaked out from between slightly parted (and kiss-bruised) lips. Crowley sighed and let his head fall back against his mate’s chest to await the morning.

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra jerked awake at noon to the sounds of banging (and  _ not  _ the fun kind). He sat bolt upright with a choked off “bwah?” to see his husband smacking the thermostat with his fist and hissing angrily at it.

“Dearest?  _ Whatever  _ are you doing?” Ezra asked sleepily. Crowley smiled briefly at him before returning to his assault on the air conditioning.

“Angel! Glad you’re up! I’m trying to get this  _ thing  _ to work. I know it makes the heat, but I can’t figure out  _ how  _ and I’m  _ cold _ !” he explained.

Ezra snorted and climbed out of bed. He remarked with some distaste that he had fallen asleep in his old clothes from yesterday and still stunk of  _ airport _ . He’d need a change of clothes and a shower, preferably with good company in the latter.

He sidled up behind Crowley and wrapped his arms around his torso. 

“It  _ is  _ rather chilly in this room, isn’t it? What would you say to joining me somewhere warmer? The shower perhaps?” the angel whispered, sneaking his questing hands under his husband’s shirt to palm at the hard planes of his chest.

Crowley froze for a second, then leaned back into Eza’s arms with a grin.

“I’d sssay ‘lead the way’,”

Ezra giggled and took his hand, leading him into the en-suite bathroom. The shower stall looked cramped, but serviceable (provided Crowley didn’t shift into his naga form). The redhead, however, looked baffled. He scratched at the side of his face. “Good thing we’re not  _ actually  _ planning on bathing, because there’s  _ no way  _ we’re both gonna fit in there without one of us being inside the other.”

In the silence that followed one could hear the sound of exasperated spouses the world over suddenly possessed by the inexplicable urge to facepalm then immediately following through with said urge.

“You ruined it. You ruined the mood,” Ezra deadpanned, walking back out of the bathroom.

“Wha-? I-? Hey! Get back in here!  _ Angel!” _

***~*~*~*~***

“Alrighty,  _ here’s  _ the itinerary!” Anathema declared excitedly, slapping a piece of paper down on the cafe table, nearly knocking over Ezra’s plate of beignets. “First, we stop by the  _ historic  _ Saint Louis Cemetery; the first one, not the other two. Second, a trip down to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop; rumored to be one of the most haunted spots in the French Quarter. Finally, we head back to the hotel and change into our costumes for a night of Trick-or-Treating!”

“Bah! You Americans with yer extortion!” Shadwell harrumphed.

“It’s not  _ extortion _ , Mr. Shadwell, it’s just a fun child’s game,” Tracy chided, gently covering his hand with her own.

“Wot’s ‘Trick-or-Treating’?” asked Crowley. “For that matter, if it’s a kid’s game, why are  _ we _ doing it?”

“Well, the history of it is long but in modernity, children wear costumes and go door-to-door requesting candy!” Ezra explained.

“Yeah! It’s usually only for kids, but one year when Ez and I were in college, we got tipsy, made terrible homemade costumes, and went to all the dorms on campus and asked for candy. It became a silly tradition of ours and we do it every year!” Anathema said, a smile on her face forming from the magic of pure nostalgia. “Although, we haven’t done it recently. I’m sure you can guess why.”

Crowley’s face fell slightly and he turned to his mate. “Oi, angel, you didn’t pack any costumes for  _ us _ !”

Ezra shimmied in his chair with a pleased smile. “On the contrary, my beloved, we have everything we need for costumes.” He gave a knowing wink to Anathema who returned it with one of her own.

The occultist then felt a light tap on her shoulder from a bony finger. She looked to her side where Tracy was fretting concernedly, gloved hands wringing in her lap. 

“Miss Anathema, dearie, I took the liberty of reading a bit about the city and… well… wasn’t Lafitte’s owned by a…  _ privateer _ ?” She whispered the last word, but it mattered little as the resulting chatter around their table chose that exact moment to die down for a moment. 

Everyone glanced nervously at Crowley, who simply shrugged.

“He’s dead, isn’t he? It’s just an old building, then,”

Ezra leaned into Crowley’s space, dropping his voice into a low, soothing timbre. “Darling, we don’t  _ have  _ to tag along. We can just let the others go and-”

“It’s  _ fine _ , angel,” Crowley interrupted, taking his mate’s hand in his. “It won’t be upsetting for me; I promise. ‘Sides, I wanna see if ghosts are real. Edward insisted they weren’t but I kept telling him that they were!”

“Aye they are. Ghosts, goblins, Fae, witches… all of ‘em!” Shadwell interjected, smacking his hand down on the table. “Tomorrow night is when devilry is at its strongest! What I wouldnae give fer Witchfinder Privates Rose and Newt ta be here now.”

Anathema, Ezra, and Crowley all shared a look that asked, “ _ Why did we invite him again?” _

***~*~*~*~***

**October 31, 2021**

A few hours before sundown, the party gathered at the front gates of St. Louis Cemetery #1, guided tour passes in hand. With the date being what it was, the crowd to get in and explore had surged considerably. Thanks to Ezra’s quick application of magic, however, a tour group intending to go before them all simultaneously realized that they had more important things to do and scattered. Anathema scolded him for disrupting those people’s Halloween plans, but Crowley had slipped an arm around his shoulders with a proud, “ _ That’s  _ the bastard I know and love!”

As the gates creaked open, and the tour guide started expounding on the rich history of the cemetery, Crowley caught sight of someone.

There was a child standing outside the wrought iron fence, peering forlornly through the bars. Messy black curls hung over dark brown eyes that swam with tears. He was dressed in tattered, ragged clothes that looked like they might have potentially been part of a tiny zombie Halloween costume. The boy sniffled and wiped at his face with the back of his hand. 

Crowley glanced around, but no parents appeared to swoop in and comfort the crying child. Right as Ezra was about to step through the gates, the redhead stopped him by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hang on a moment, angel,” he said, and walked over to the boy. The child noticed him and his crying slowed, but didn’t outright stop. Crowley crouched down beside him. “Hey, kid. What’s got you so upset? Where are your parents?”

The boy’s lower lip wobbled and he pointed through the bars of the gate. “T-they’re in there. I can’t get in, though, to go find them.”

Crowley craned his head over his shoulder to see if he could spot any other tour groups, but the densely packed above-ground tombs made it hard to do so.

“Bloody Hell… they just  _ left you  _ out here?”

The boy shook his head, but didn’t elaborate further. Crowley then stood up decisively, and extended a hand. “Well, come on then. My mate and I will get you inside and help you find your parents. You got a name?”

“Auguste,”

“I’m Anthony. But you can call me Crowley. Everyone else does,”

Auguste gave a watery smile and took the offered hand. Together, they walked back to the gate where Ezra was waiting. When the angel spotted the boy, his eyebrows jumped to his hairline in surprise.

“Who’s this, dearest?” he asked as he bent down to be eye-level with the child.

“Says his name’s Auguste. Apparently his parents went in for a tour and left him stuck out here,” Crowley answered.

Ezra gasped in outrage.

“They just  _ left you  _ out here?!” he exclaimed.

“That’s what  _ I  _ said, angel! I told our little friend here that you and I would get him back to his folks,”

“Can you really help me?” Auguste whimpered quietly. He stared up at the angel with wide, pleading eyes.

By way of answer, Ezra reached behind the boy’s head, producing a Tour Pass out of thin air. Auguste made an astonished noise.

“We  _ absolutely  _ can, dear one, but you’ll need one of  _ these _ ,”

He handed the pass to Auguste, who clutched it tightly in a tiny fist.

“Come on, you two. The tour guide’s giving us dirty looks for holding up the line,” Crowley chuckled.

The redhead sauntered away to join the rest of the group, and Ezra moved to do the same when he felt a much smaller hand slip into his. He glanced down at Auguste, who was looking at him as if he were seeing straight through him.

“Thanks for helping me, Aziraphale,” Auguste said.

Ezra chuckled and shook his head. “Think nothing of it, my dear. Only, my name is  _ Ezra Fell _ , not Aziraphale.”

Auguste shrugged his shoulders.

“Aziraphale sounds like a better name for an angel than ‘Ezra Fell’, don’t you?” he asked nonchalantly and let Ezra’s hand go to trot after Crowley.

Ezra stood rooted to the spot, stunned. He was tempted to ask their newest group member just how he knew about his angelic status. Instead, he shook his head as if he were objecting to his own want. No, it was just a coincidence. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been called “angelic” and Auguste was most likely reacting to Crowley’s nickname for him.

With that in mind, he slipped into the cemetery just as the gate closed behind him.

***~*~*~*~***

One hour (and lovely tour) later, Ezra and Crowley were no closer to finding Auguste’s parents than they had been at the start. The tour guide had informed them that there were no other groups before them, and that there weren’t any other people further inside the cemetery that matched Auguste’s description of his mom and dad.

As the gate clanged shut, depositing the group back onto the pavement, Anathema tucked her hands into the pockets of her shorts.

“I guess we’re just gonna have to take this little fella to the police station and file a report or something,”

“I suppose so,” Ezra sighed, upset that the poor dear would most likely be spending his Halloween waiting in a dismal police station for parents who may or may not care enough to come looking for him. “Come along then, Auguste. We’ll get you home and- Auguste?”

Ezra looked up in time to see the boy dart around a corner and into an alley.

“Oi! Get back here!” Crowley shouted, taking off after him. 

Ezra, Anathema, and Tracy were quick to follow (with Shadwell puffing along behind them). Crowley was the first to reach the alley, where he found Auguste crouched down behind a dumpster. He cautiously approached, arms held up placatingly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, kid. It’s okay. What’s got you so worked up?”

Auguste scooted further behind the dumpster, until only his head was visible around the corner. “The police can’t help me!” he snapped. “Only Aziraphale can!”

“Who the Hell is ‘Aziraphale’?”

“That would be  _ me _ , dearest,” Ezra answered, coming up behind him. He leaned down to whisper in his husband’s ear, “The poor dear seems to think my name is ‘Aziraphale’. He says that it’s a proper angel name.”

“Does he know about…” Crowley whispered back, making a flapping motion with his hands to indicate wings.

“No, I don’t think so. I think he just heard you call me ‘angel’ and his imagination filled in the rest. For whatever reason, he thinks only  _ I  _ can help him find his parents,”

Ezra patted Crowley on the shoulder, then stepped towards Auguste who seemed to be torn between wanting to bolt and wanting to stay put. Wincing at the feel of dumpster-water soaking into his jeans, Ezra kneeled in front of the frightened boy. “Auguste, listen to me, I  _ want  _ to help you. To do so, however, we need to go to the police.  _ They’ll  _ be able to help you, too.”

Auguste screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No they won’t! They don’t know where my parents are!  _ Please _ , Aziraphale!”

Ezra was about to protest again, when he felt Anathema’s hand come down on his shoulder.

“I think we should take him with us, Ez,” she said gently. “He’s obviously upset at the idea of going to the police. Perhaps he’s had a bad experience? If we walk around the city, maybe we can find his parents.”

“How about we leave our numbers at the station?” suggested Tracy. “We could take him with us, and leave a note in case they go to the police looking for him.”

“That’s a  _ terrible idea _ ! Do you realize that if we were  _ anybody else,  _ running off with a child would be  _ extremely suspicious at best, illegal at worst _ ?” Ezra exclaimed, glaring at the two of them.

“But we’re  _ not  _ ‘anybody else’!” Anathema stressed. “We could do a  _ lot  _ more good taking him with us than just dumping him at the precinct and calling it a day. I say we do what Tracy suggested.”

The angel looked to her, then Tracy, then back to Auguste, whose eyes shone with the first flicker of hope since meeting him. Ezra still felt distinctly uncomfortable with the idea, but he was outnumbered. He exhaled a long breath of air.

“Very well. Let’s go, small one. We’ll let the police know to contact us if your mother and father show up. In the meantime, we’ll help you look for them,”

“ _ Thank you _ , Aziraphale!” Auguste laughed, throwing himself at the angel in that fierce kind of hug that only overjoyed children can give. “Nobody can bring me home but  _ you _ !”

Ezra chuckled nervously and patted the boy’s back. “W-well thank you for the vote of confidence, young man.”

He rose to his feet, and Auguste eagerly took his hand as the two of them walked back to where Crowley was waiting with a funny kind of look on his face.

“Shall we, dearest?”

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go!” Auguste said, taking Crowley’s hand so that he was between him and Ezra, each of his hands holding one of theirs.

The funny look on Crowley’s face intensified, and Ezra could have sworn he saw a faint mistiness to his husband’s eyes. Crowley swallowed once.

“O-okay, kid. Sure. Let’s, uh- let’s go,”


	43. Epilogue Chapter 5: Down in New Orleans (Part 3 - FINAL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Ezra finally bring Auguste back home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter; I couldn't quite decide how to end it!
> 
> CW for brief implied/referenced child death.

“Are  _ those  _ your parents?” Ezra asked, pointing through the crowd at a young couple browsing a storefront window.

Auguste craned his neck, then stomped his foot in frustration.

“I can’t  _ see!” _ he complained.

“I’m on it,” Crowley said. He grabbed Auguste under the arms, hefted him up, and deposited him atop his own shoulders. “Can you see now?”

The child squinited, tapping the top of Crowley’s head like a drum.

“Yeah! But… it’s not them,” Auguste sighed, face falling.

Tracy cooed in sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Mister Auguste,” she chipped in. “We’ll find them in no time!”

_ “Aziraphale  _ can help me find them!” the boy declared, kicking his heels against Crowley’s chest.

Ezra bit back a frustrated sigh. He’d been  _ trying, _ but even his magic had been unable to locate them. He didn’t know  _ what  _ Auguste expected him to do outside of stopping every passersby in the street and shaking them down for answers.

Anathema turned her gaze to the sky, where the sun had begun to set. 

“It’s starting to get late, and nobody from the station’s called. What should we do?” she asked.

_ That  _ problem was a whole new kettle of fish. If Auguste’s parents couldn’t be located before the night was out, where was he going to stay? The thought of the boy spending the night at the police station had Ezra’s guts churning in sadness and discomfort.

Crowley marched forward, Auguste giggling happily at the shoulder-ride. “I say we continue our evening as planned! ‘S a bit too late for Lafitte’s, but we can still take the kid here trick-or-treating!”

Said kid squealed excitedly and clapped his hands, almost tipping backwards had Crowley not leaned  _ forwards. _

“I think that’s a  _ lovely _ idea!” Tracy replied. “There’s bound to be even more families out and about, so perhaps someone will recognize him!”

Anathema chimed in her agreement, and Shadwell just harrumphed, but everyone present knew that was just his version of voting “Aye”. 

Ezra, however, remained hesitant. “I’m not so certain. Wouldn’t he be  _ harder  _ to recognize with a costume?”

“Aw _ come on,  _ angel!” Crowley whinged. “It’s a great idea! Isn’t that right, kid?”

He gave the boy on his shoulders a little jostle and Auguste clasped his hands together beseechingly

_ “Pleeeeeaaase, _ Aziraphale? I haven’t been trick-or-treating in a  _ long time!”  _ he asked. He jutted out his bottom lip and widened his cedar-colored eyes. 

“Yeah!  _ Pleeeeease,  _ angel?” Crowley tried to make the same pouty-face, but it wobbled around a smile that threatened to break free.

“You- I- we- y-”

Ezra’s stuttered protests slowed when his husband angled his head a little to peer over his shades, flashing a pleading, golden gaze. The angel sighed in frustration, head thrown back. “Oh  _ fine, _ you unholy terrors! Let’s all head back to the hotel and get our costumes on…”

Crowley whooped and fist-pumped the air as Auguste threw his arms up and cheered.

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra escorted Auguste up to his and Crowley’s room, steadfastly ignoring the suspicious glare the concierge sent their way.

_ Can hardly blame them. Two adults taking a scruffy-looking child up to their hotel that didn’t arrive with them off the plane… The dears mean well, I should just… _

He subtly snapped his fingers, implanting a false memory in all the hotel staff that Auguste was their godson, travelling with them while his parents enjoyed a lovely Second Honeymoon.

He still hastily bundled his husband and the boy into the room, just in case the memory didn’t take.

“Alright, angel, what are we gonna dress the little hellion as?” Crowley asked, the corner’s of his mouth twitching into a smile.

Ezra glared at him, then wrenched open a random drawer and pretended to rifle through its contents. He smiled down at Auguste.

“Well, as it turns out, we just so happened to pack a spare child’s costume-”

“Lucky coincidence, that,” Crowley smirked.

“Almost like a  _ miracle,” _ Auguste tittered from behind his hand, sharing a conspiratory wink with Ezra.

For the second time that day, the angel was struck by the eerie thought that Auguste might know more about him than he was letting on. It didn’t matter, however, as hopefully the boy would be reunited with his parents before the night was out. Ezra snapped his fingers again, the sound muffled by the drawer, then produced a long white sheet with a flourish.

_ “Ta-daa!  _ It’s a ghost costume!” he declared, wiggling his fingers through the little mouth, nose, arm, and eye holes. Auguste levelled him with a flat, unamused stare, and Crowley burst into guffaws. Ezra turned red with embarrassment. “Do go easy on me, Crowley! I don’t know the first  _ thing  _ about children!”

Auguste stepped forward and took the costume from the flustered angel, throwing it over his head and wiggling it down over himself. His little arms popped out from the sides and he gave a twirl.

“How does it look?” he asked.

Crowley made a whimpering, keening sound and bit down on his knuckles, turning to his mate.

“Kid’s  _ adorable, _ angel,” he choked. Even Ezra, who had no particular inclinations towards children one way or the other, had to nod his head in agreement. Once Crowley had taken a few moments to calm down he asked, “So… what are  _ we  _ wearing tonight?”

“If you would be so kind as to follow me to the bathroom, we’ll get changed right away!” Ezra answered, taking his husband’s arm to lead him inside.

Auguste plopped himself down on the bed and swung his legs in the air from where they didn’t touch the floor as his temporary guardians closed the bathroom door behind them. Crowley rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“So what’s the plan?” he whispered.

Ezra smiled beatifically, then materialized his wings close to his body. They gave a slight twitch, eager to spread out but unable to do so in such cramped quarters.

_ “I’m  _ going as an angel and _ you, _ my love, will be a half-snake man with a  _ frighteningly  _ realistic tail,”

Crowley pulled his glasses of his face, revealing eyes that had gone fully serpentine, with pupils contracted to slits.

“Are you sure that’ssssssss a good idea?” he asked, looking around nervously. “What if the humansss attack us? What if I ssscare Auguste?”

Ezra hugged him tight.

“Oh, my darling, I  _ promise  _ that nobody will hurt you,” he mumbled against the redhead’s shoulder. “But, if you’re so worried, you don’t have to shift. I can conjure a different costume for you, no questions asked. I simply thought that you might appreciate being able to be your true self and not have to hide behind glasses or anything else.”

Crowley let himself be held as he mulled over Ezra’s words. Admittedly, the idea of being able to move about in the form that was most comfortable to him  _ did  _ have its own appeal. If he happened to terrify a few humans in the process  _ (without  _ getting himself or his mate killed), that was just the icing on the cake.

Mind made up, he backed away from Ezra so he could undress in order to shift into his naga form without ruining his clothes. As he did so, the snake tattoo on the side of his face slithered down his cheek, growing as it went, until it darted down his chest to his legs, covering them and melding them into a several meters long snake-tail. 

Ezra had to scramble on top of the toilet lid to keep his toes from being squashed beneath his husband’s massive coils. 

“Goodness! Perhaps we should have done this somewhere with more room,” he chuckled.

“You sure the kid issssn’t going to be too frightened of me?” Crowley asked, worrying at his bottom lip with a fang.

“I’m certain! If anything, Auguste’ll think it’s the best ‘costume’ he’s ever seen!” Ezra replied, climbing back down from his perch and pressing a quick kiss to the redhead’s nose. “Now, let’s go see if the others are ready.”

***~*~*~*~***

Sure enough, Auguste had metaphorically lost his mind upon Crowley exiting the bathroom. The boy had made various noises of surprise and delight, petting Crowley’s tail like a scaly cat and standing on his tiptoes to touch Ezra’s wing feathers.

Presently, the three of them were heading back towards the hotel lobby to meet up with Anathema, Tracy, and Shadwell. Auguste sat astride Crowley’s tail as if it were a war steed, an empty pillowcase slung over his costumed shoulder. Every so often someone walking by would startle at Crowley’s “costume” or ask how Ezra managed to make wings that moved so  _ believably. _ Crowley, despite his previous misgivings, was having a blast flashing a bit of fang or darting out a forked tongue.

There had even been several requests for selfies!

Upon arrival in the lobby, Tracy waved them over with a, “Yoohoo!”

The retiree was dressed in a skin-tight skeleton costume, face painted in shades of white and black to look like a skull. Beside her, the giant pumpkin that was Anathema snorted in amusement at the sight of Auguste in his “ghost” disguise.

“Nice ‘costumes’, you two,” she said with a wink at Crowley and Ezra.

“Thank you, Ana,” Ezra said happily. “Shall we be off, then?”

“Oi, where’s  _ your  _ costume?” Crowley asked, pointing at Shadwell.

The self-proclaimed Witchfinder was still dressed in the same tattered overcoat as he  _ always  _ wore.

“I’ll nae be lured intae practicin’ devilry  _ tonight!  _ Need tae keep a sharp eye out fer witches and their ilk. I cannae afford the distraction of fancy pageantry!” Shadwell replied stubbornly.

Tracy gave everyone a look that asked,  _ “What can ya do?” _

“Riiiiight,” Anathema said nervously. “Anywho, follow me to free candy!”

Ezra cocked his head in confusion. “What about getting drunk? Has that part changed in the last year since I’ve been gone?”

“No, but we’ve got a minor with us now!” Anathema explained. “We need to be  _ responsible adults!” _

With that, she waddled for the revolving hotel lobby doors, got stuck (her pumpkin costume was really quite wide), and had to have Crowley push her through.

***~*~*~*~***

“So? Have any of these people we’ve passed seem familiar to you?” Ezra later asked Auguste as the two of them walked hand-in-hand down the pavement to the next house.

The boy shook his head, his eyes trained forwards on the rest of the group in front of him.

“They’re not gonna look for me…” he muttered.

“Whyever not?” Ezra asked, exasperated and at the end of his tether of mercy for bad parents. “If you were my boy, I’d stop at  _ nothing  _ to find you again!” 

“I know you would. It’s what angels do,” Auguste said with all the certainty of one stating lifelong convictions.

“Well  _ this  _ angel is getting quite upset that your parents haven’t started looking for you yet,”

“They would. But they can’t,” Auguste said knowingly. He let go of Ezra’s hand to reach into his pillowcase and pull out a lolly. He unwrapped it, stuck the candy part in his mouth, and continued.  _ “You’re  _ the only one who can bring me back to them.”

Ezra opened his mouth to ask just  _ how  _ he was supposed to do that, when Crowley broke away from the rest of the group to slow his slither and allow them to catch up. 

“Hey, angel, I was just talking to Witchy Human. She wants me to tell you that it’s getting late and we need to decide what to do with Auguste here,” he said.

Ezra didn’t reply for a moment as he thought about it. Then, “What  _ should  _ we do? We can’t just drop him off at the station, but we also can’t keep him with us for much longer. Our flight back to London leaves tomorrow afternoon!”

Crowley rubbed at the back of his head.

“I mean… who says we have to turn him in  _ tonight?  _ Surely we can let him stay with us at the hotel for the rest of the night, continue looking for his parents in the morning, and  _ then  _ \- if we can’t find them - bring him to the police?” he asked.

“Darling, that’s not-”

“What time is it?”

Crowley and Ezra glanced down at Auguste, who had shrugged off his ghost costume and how had it draped over his arm. 

“It’s almost 10pm. Why do you ask, little one?” the angel answered.

Auguste sighed.

“I guess it’s time to go back home,”

Ezra smacked his own forehead. Of course!  _ How  _ had they been so  _ stupid?!  _ They could have just brought Auguste back to his house instead of running on a wild goose chase halfway across the city!

He was half-tempted to scold the boy, but really the fault was his own.

“Alright,” Ezra sighed. “Lead the way, young man.”

Auguste took both his and Crowley’s hands, leading the two men back in the direction they had come from. 

“Hey! Where are you three going?” Anathema shouted after them.

“Crowley and I are taking Auguste back to his house,” Ezra called over his shoulder. “We’ll meet you all at the hotel later!”

He let himself be led down the street.. Halfway through their trip, Crowley hoisted the boy back up on his shoulders, and Auguste would direct them where to go with a, “turn left here” or “two streets this way”.

The three of them continued, pausing every so often for a photo-op with other trick-or-treaters who were simply  _ dying  _ to know how Crowley had made his “fake” tail so lifelike! Ezra would have felt put out at the relative lack of attention his  _ own  _ “costume” was getting, had Crowley not looked so happy being himself and  _ not  _ met with blood-curdling screams for once.

Taking into account the frequent stops, it was a little past 11pm by the time they showed up at where Auguste had been leading them.

Crowley and Ezra stared up at the same wrought-iron fence they’d already visited once today.

“Oi, this is just the cemetery again!” the redhead griped, setting Auguste back down.

“Is your house around  _ here, _ perhaps?” Ezra asked, looking around.

Auguste said nothing, stepping forward until he was peering through the bars into St. Louis.

“It was… a long time ago. Someone else lives in it now,”

Ezra came up beside him.

“Well, where do you live  _ now?” _

Auguste turned dark, fathomless eyes to him.

“Somewhere only  _ you  _ can take me,” he said quietly. The child looked back to the cemetery, then to the gate. “Open the door for me, Aziraphale. Please?”

Ezra’s mouth opened and closed a few times, a dreadful suspicion forming in his mind. 

“Y-yes. Of course,” he mumbled.

Crowley watched him with open confusion as Ezra stepped up to the locked cemetery gates. The angel pressed a hand to it, and it swung obediently open.

“Angel? What are you doing?” Crowley asked, clearing his throat.

Ezra glanced down at Auguste, the two of them having an unspoken conversation. The boy placed his bag of candy down on the pavement.

“Here, Crowley.  _ You  _ can have this. I don’t really need it anymore,”

“What are you talking about?” the redhead asked.

Auguste said nothing, just slipped his hand into Ezra’s, then gestured for Crowley to do the same with his free hand. The boy lifted his gaze to Ezra. “I’m ready to go home now. I’m sorry for making you two run around so much. I just wanted to have a little fun before the night was over.”

Ezra gave a tranquil smile. “It’s perfectly understandable, my dear boy. Am I to assume that you had a good time?”

_ “Definitely!” _ Auguste giggled, jumping in place.

“Come along, then. I’m sure your mother and father will be happy to see you again,”

Ezra tugged gently on Auguste’s arm, pulling him and Crowley into the cemetery like a mother duck leading her ducklings.

“Oi! Issssssss this some kind of prank you two are pulling?” Crowley asked frantically, snatching his hand away once the gate clanged shut behind them. “Because if it is -  _ Ha! Ha!  _ \- you got me! Can we get out of here now?”

“Really, dearest, you have no need to be frightened. You’re the scariest thing out here,” Ezra tutted, gesturing at the rows and rows of still, silent tombs.

Auguste nodded in agreement. Crowley bunched up his tail and hugged himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You guyssssssss got me. Can we  _ go?” _ he grumbled.

“We will in a moment. We need to say goodbye to our little friend first,” Ezra replied, kneeling down so he could be eye-level with Auguste.

Crowley’s arms dropped to his sides.

“‘Goodbye’? Where’ssss he goin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to squeak in fright.

“Home,” answered Auguste. He jumped up to be caught by Crowley in a hug. “Thanks for the fun night. I hope I see you both again next year!”

He climbed down out of the redhead’s arms to give Ezra a hug of his own.

“Oh, my dear, of  _ course  _ we will!” Ezra chuckled. “I’m looking forward to it already. Just make sure to let your parents know so they don’t worry.”

“I promise!”

Crowley watched, transfixed, as his mate and Auguste broke apart. The two of them shared a secretive smile, then Ezra took the boy’s hands and pressed a soft, paternal, kiss to his forehead.

“Happy Halloween, Auguste. Sleep, and dream of whatever you like best,”

Auguste’s eyes slipped close as his body shimmered, becoming moonlight, before finally disappearing completely. Ezra sighed, both happily and heavily, before he climbed to his feet, dusting off the gravedirt. “Well, that’s that, then. Shall we head back to the hotel, dearest?”

Crowley pointed a trembling finger to where Auguste had been standing not two minutes previously.

“Wha- you- wha- that- he-” he babbled.

Ezra tittered. “You  _ said  _ you wanted to see if ghosts were real!”

Crowley made a high-pitched whining noise that was half mind-numbing terror, and half stunned astonishment. He scrambled to come up with  _ something  _ to say about the evening’s revelations, but settled lamely for mumbling, “I’m gonna miss him.”

“I will too, dearest. But look on the bright side, we’ll see him again next year; sure enough!” The angel slipped his arm through his husband’s. “Now, let’s get back to the hotel before you end up adopting any more ghostly children,” he teased.

“I didn’t- that’ssssss not- you- agh!”

Crowley’s outraged ramblings were cut off with a quick peck to his lips, though he continued muttering under his breath as the two of them made their way back down the street towards the hotel. 

Outside the gate, Crowley paused for a moment to snatch up the gifted back of candy, then followed after his mate. As he fished out and unwrapped a lolly for himself, he pictured the looks on Anathema and Shadwell’s faces when he told them about who they’d all spent an evening with.

He popped the candy into his mouth with a fangy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY EARLY HALLOWEEN lol


	44. Epilogue Chapter 6: Legs and Wings and Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Sophie_Wolf who requested leg and wing-related sexytimes, as well as Anathema's reaction to finding out that Crowley was in possession of her ancestors' book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Warning! Starts at "Ezra swallowed, closed his eyes, and let his head tip back." and continues through the rest of the chapter. Features Dom!Ezra/Sub!Crowley, Wing Kink, and Body Worship.

**The Evening After Leaving the Island**

“This is  _ incredible!”  _ Anathema breathed as she ran her fingertips reverently over the cover of  _ The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter: Witch.  _ She smiled at Crowley from across the table on the cruiser’s deck. “How on Earth did you get this?”

The redhead worried at his bottom lip with a fang and Ezra, beside him as ever, ran a hand up and down his arm in a comforting gesture. “I… I ssstole it,” he admitted softly.

Anathema blinked once and fell silent.

“But this book…” she began. “This book was taken from my family over three  _ hundred  _ years ago!”

Crowley said nothing, simply swallowed and nodded, his eyes trained on the grainy wood of the table. Medina reached a hand across the empty space and rested it lightly on the inside of a bony wrist.

“Crowley, mate, how old  _ are  _ you?”

“‘S a bit of a rude quessstion, eh?” Crowley chuckled bitterly, his eyes swimming. When no one laughed with him, he turned his eyes heavenward to the purpling dusk sky. “I… uh… assuming I did my math right, I’m 330. I was twenty-eight when I was marooned.”

The assembled humans burst into shocked gasps.

“Wait, you were  _ marooned?!”  _ Medina exclaimed, outraged on his friend’s behalf. “I thought you were  _ always  _ a monst- um… I didn’t know you were human once.”

Crowley sighed heavily. He leaned over to tap the cover of Anathema’s book. “I ussssssed to be human, yeah,” he said, glancing around at his assembled family. “That all changed when my crew attacked a transssport ship bearing Anathema’s ancestors, as well as this book.”

“W-wait…” Newt began. He gave Crowley a wary side-glance that wasn’t  _ suspicious  _ so much as  _ worried.  _ “You were a p-p-pirate?”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, but I was a privateer  _ firsssst.  _ It was Edward who convinced me to take up piracy.”

Ezra took his hand.

“That’s how you got my book, huh?” Anathema deduced. “Your crew was after it?”

“Yup!” Crowley answered nervously, popping the “p”. “Although, it was actually ssstolen  _ twice.  _ My crew took it from  _ you,  _ and then  _ I  _ nicked it from  _ Edward.”  _

It was obvious from the crumpled brows and pursed lips that nobody apart from Ezra understood what he was talking about, so Crowley elaborated. “In October of 1718, mine and Edward’s crew attacked your family’s ship while they were on their way to the colonies because we had gotten word that you were in possession of a valuable book. Your family didn’t put up any resistance, and allowed us to seize the ship and raid the cargo. Everything went swimmingly right up until Edward’s bastard of a First Mate, Ligur, physically assaulted a woman and tried to  _ murder  _ a child. So, I put a bullet between Ligur’s eyes. Edward, of course, didn’t like that, and set me adrift in a rowboat with nothing but the clothes on my back, my ‘cut’ of the raid, and the book that he didn’t know I stole from him in retaliation.”

Anathema sucked in a breath, her eyes as round as her glasses.

“ _ Holy shit!”  _ she exclaimed excitedly. “That… that pirate… that was  _ you?!” _

“Wait, you  _ know  _ who he was?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to where Crowley sat looking just as surprised as Anathema.

“Nonono! My great-great-however-many-greats grandfather Mylo told a story to his kids about how he had been rescued by a pirate when he was just a boy! The story is something of a family legend!” the occultist babbled eagerly.

Crowley flexed his fingers on the table, drumming them anxiously.

“That… that boy…” He swallowed. “What did he say about me?”

Anathema gave him a soft smile. “Mylo said that one of the pirates who had taken the ship he was on apparently had a change of heart and saved him from getting killed. The pirate even defended his mother after she’d spat on another one’s boot.”

“His  _ mother…”  _ Crowley marvelled, Ezra reaching up to comb his fingers through his husband’s fiery red hair.

“Oh  _ yeah,”  _ Anathema drawled lazily, her wood-brown eyes flickering to the former pirate to gauge his reaction to her words. “Apparently Mylo would not  _ shut up  _ about how  _ cool  _ you were and how  _ brave  _ you were. His mother might not have approved, for obvious reasons - least of which being that you plundered their ship - but even she couldn’t help but be grateful to you for the rest of her days that you saved her boy. Hell, without you Crowley, I wouldn’t even  _ be here  _ today! So, in a way, I owe you  _ my life  _ too.”

Crowley inhaled shakily and placed a hand over his face to hide his eyes that had rapidly gone full-serpent. Between the gaps in his husband’s fingers, Ezra could see the faint shimmer of tears that threatened to fall. The redhead’s throat bobbed with restrained sobs and his mouth was turned down tightly at the corners.

“I… at leassst  _ something  _ good came out of my revolt and abandonment,” he whispered.

“A  _ lot  _ of good came out of it,” Medina said, trying to put him at ease.

Crowley removed his hand and turned a watery smile to his mate. “Yeah. It did. I got to meet Ezra. If I’d known he would be waiting for me on the other sssside of it all, I’d have dove overboard head-first on day one.”

“Oh,  _ dearest,”  _ the blond sighed, the warm glow in his chest matching the one in his husband’s.

Newt cooed at the sight, then covered Anathema’s hand with his own.

“I get the feeling that’s not the  _ entire  _ legend. Am I right,  _ mi reina _ ?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The two of them shared a smitten glance.

“You know me so well,” Anathema sighed happily. 

Beside her, Gabriel made a gagging motion. She resolutely ignored him and turned back to Crowley. This time, however, she seemed apprehensive. “There  _ is  _ more about… what happened after you were gone.”

Crowley went stiff.

“Did Edward hurt any of your family?” he asked slowly.

“No, actually!” Anathema replied. A stunned look had come over her features. “According to Mylo’s tale, the pirate captain - Edward - let everybody go afterwards! He didn’t even sink the ship, or take prisoners, or anything!”

Nobody had thought it possible, but Crowley somehow managed to go even  _ stiffer;  _ like his entire spine had been replaced with a wooden board.  _ “What?! Why?!” _

Anathema didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, her eyes moved to the distant outline of the Island. They took on a dreamy, far-off look as if she were peering through the veil of time itself.

“I’m not sure how accurate great-whatever-grandpa Mylo’s recounting is, but he told his grandchildren that he’d overheard one of the pirates demanding to know why they were letting the prisoners go and Captain Edward simply said, ‘it’s what Ant would have wanted’.”

Finally, Crowley could no longer hold back his grief. He clapped both hands over his mouth in a futile attempt to stifle a sob, but it mattered little when the people around him could see his pain reflected openly in the slope of his shoulders and the trembling of his body.

Then, a roar ripped its way out of him.

_ “That fucking  _ **_bassstard_ ** _!!” _

Crowley swept his arm out, slamming into the edge of the table and sending it pinwheeling over the edge of the boat and through the air. It flew several yards before crashing into the ocean and promptly sinking with a gurgle.

“Good Lord…” whimpered Ezra, uncurling himself from where he’d drawn his knees up to his chest at his husband’s sudden outburst. “That was  _ bolted  _ to the floor!”

Anathema sighed and Newt mumbled, “There goes the deposit…”

Crowley cared nothing for bolts or “deposits”. At present, he was too busy angrily pacing the deck, gesticulating wildly in a rage-induced stupor.

“He jussst  _ let them go?!  _ After what he  _ did  _ to me?! ‘Oh! It’sssss what Ant would have wanted!’  _ Motherfucker  _ I should have shot him all thossssse times I had the chance! Am I jussst expected to believe he  _ suddenly  _ cared about me enough to honor my ‘last wishes’?!”

Ezra, for his part, was somewhat hesitant to go and comfort Crowley after the events of that afternoon (being crushed to death would make  _ anyone  _ wary). But, seeing as the redhead was not currently a five-metre serpent on a rampage, Ezra felt secure in taking his chances. He hopped out of his seat and hurried over to where Crowley was grumbling something unintelligible.

“Darling, if you spend all your time trying to figure out why Edward did the things he did, you’ll go mad,” the former human said, entwining their hands. “Perhaps, after losing you, he felt a bit of remorse. Perhaps he simply wanted to let them go out of some twisted sense of honor; I don’t know and, frankly, it doesn’t matter. Edward is  _ gone,  _ my love, he can never hurt you again.”

The fight leaked out of Crowley along with a woosh of air.

“I know, angel. I know. I just wish I’d gotten a little bit of closure from it. I’m ashamed to admit this now, but… I also wish I hadn’t spent so much time thinking he would come back for me,” he said, leaning down to rest his forehead against Ezra’s.

“I’m so sorry all this happened to you,” his mate said into the scant few inches between them.

Crowley caressed the side of Ezra’s face. “I meant what I said, angel. You were worth every moment that brought me closer to you.”

As they brought their mouths together in a soft, sweet kiss, they heard Newt coo again.

***~*~*~*~***

Long after everyone else had entered the sleeping cabins for a few hours rest before docking back in England (with the exception of Medina, who had taken the first navigation shift), Ezra and Crowley stood on deck, watching the stars come out overhead.

The redhead closed his eyes, feeling the ocean spray wash over him. It had been so long since last he sailed, and for the longest time he thought he’d never get to again. The gentle bobbing of the ship on the waves, the soft whispers of the water lapping at the sides of the boat, the tangy scent of salt on the air…

Crowley considered shifting into his primal form in favor of sleeping out in the open, when a sound like the unfurling of sails yanked him to full awareness.

He blinked his eyes open and was met with a  _ wall  _ of disheveled white feathers directly beside him right where his mate had been standing not thirty seconds prior. He reached out a hand to touch it. “Er… angel?”

When his fingertips brushed against a misaligned secondary, the lump of feathers jolted and Ezra peeked out at Crowley from between parted primaries.

“Oh!” he giggled. “Sorry. Seems these things are a bit ticklish.”

Ezra shifted, and Crowley realized that the feathery bundle had simply been his mate opening his new wings. “You’re not thinking of going on a late-night flight, are you?”

“Oh  _ no,”  _ Ezra replied. “I just… I’m still getting used to the idea of  _ having  _ them and, well… it feels nice letting them catch the breeze a little.”

Crowley made a noise of understanding and craned his neck to observe the magnificent limbs, which seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight. Had the feathers not looked so disorganized, Ezra’s wings would have been  _ magnificent. _

“You want me to tidy them up a bit?” Crowley offered, making “grabby” motions with his hands. “I can’t imagine that feels comfortable.”

Ezra rolled his shoulders and a bit of fluff came loose to drift through the air. “Now that you mention it, they  _ are  _ a tad itchy.”

Crowley pointed a finger towards the floor and made a twirling motion with it.

“Well? Go on then. Give us a peek,”

Ezra turned, bearing his naked back , shoulders, and wings.[1] Crowley whistled lowly, his hands suspended in the air, unsure of where to start tidying. 

Deciding to begin straightening the barbs on the primaries, Crowley raked his hands along the length of the outermost one. Almost as soon as he did, Ezra was wracked with a full-body shiver and he lurched forward. Crowley yanked his hands away like he’d touched a scorching hob.

_ “Shit!  _ Sssorry, angel! Did I hurt you?”

There was a long silence, then, “N-no. I’m fine, dearest. It was just very… unexpected. Do carry on.”

“Alright,” Crowley said in a soft tone. By way of apology, he leaned forward a little to nuzzle a dainty kiss at the nape of his mate’s neck.

Ezra swallowed, closed his eyes, and let his head tip back.

Subconsciously, Crowley’s left hand rose to gently close around the angel’s throat while his other dug its knuckles right into the spot where the scapulars turned to skin. Ezra turned his head a little to whisper something about how good it felt, but his husband could barely make out the words past the blond’s heavy breathing.

Crowley felt the massive wings quiver under his hands. In response, his fingers skittered over the marginal coverts, flicking away bits of messy down as they went. He spotted a particularly stubborn-looking bit of fluff[2] that had yet to be knocked away, and his hand closed around it. Ezra’s breath caught in his throat. 

The down was barely a fistful, and still refused to budge after a bit of light tugging, so Crowley clenched it tighter and practically yanked it away. Ezra gasped his husband’s name and shook as a teeny dot of blood bubbled up from between the coverts.

Crowley was about to begin another frantic round of desperate apologies, but Ezra ground his hips backwards, nearly knocking the redhead over. Crowley was forced to steady himself by gripping onto the top of Ezra’s wings, inadvertently pulling them back a little, and the angel cried out loud enough to echo over the water.

Crowley had exactly half of a second to hope that Medina, up in the Captain’s Cabin, hadn’t heard that. 

In the next half-second, the redhead found himself flat on his back,  _ completely naked,  _ with an equally underdressed angel straddling him and pinning his wrists to the wooden deck below.

“Do you have  _ any  _ idea of how good that feels?” Ezra growled.

“I think I might have  _ some  _ idea,” Crowley replied with a light chuckle as he stared down at his mate’s straining erection.

Ezra tightened his hands around Crowley’s wrists and brought his lips down to hiss into his ear, “You  _ really don’t.”  _ The blond sat back up, his wings flared out behind him. He ran his hands down his own neck. “It’s like… like… like the world’s best back scratch and massage rolled into one.  _ God  _ I feel like I’m on  _ fire!” _

“Th-that’s great, angel. Glad I could help. But, um… we’re a bit exposed out here. Everyone else is below, sure, but what if Medina catches us?” Crowley asked, his voice dropped down to a panicked (if  _ desperately aroused)  _ whisper.

Ezra groaned in a voice with a steely edge. “He can watch.  _ Hell,  _ he can even  _ participate!  _ I don’t  _ care!  _ I just want you  _ now!  _ And I can tell you want me too…”

_ “Holy fuck, angel,”  _ Crowley gasped, his entire body going limp (apart from his cock,[3] which was throbbing so hard as to be almost painful).

“That’s the idea, my love,”

In a move that was  _ entirely  _ too serpentine to belong to an angel, Ezra slid down the length of Crowley’s body, dragging all ten fingernails across the redhead’s chest as he went, leaving behind stinging red lines that had their recipient arching his back for more.

When Ezra was far enough away, he slid off of Crowley’s legs and lifted one of them to his face. He ran a reverent fingertip up the length of a muscular (if somewhat skinny) calf, marvelling at the smoothe,[4] tanned skin beneath his touch. 

Crowley sucked in a breath at the same time his other leg kicked out slightly.

“Fuck, I’d forgotten how sensitive those things can be,”

“Indeed. Now shut up and let me worship them,”

“Ngk!”

Crowley’s head thunked back against the deck as Ezra began trailing a series of kisses, licks, and nibbles up the length of his husband’s leg. Every few inches, Ezra would forgo any attempts at gentleness and  _ bite  _ down, worrying the flesh with his teeth and producing reddish-purple circular bruises. Any time he did, Crowley would clap his hands over his mouth to muffle a howl of pleasure.

When he felt Ezra’s mouth trail to the inseam of his thigh, Crowley whimpered out a weak, “Please don’t bite my dick.”

The angel chuckled, his breath a puff of hot air over the other man’s twitching member.

“I won’t,” he purred, and licked a hot stripe from root to tip, taking a moment to flatten his tongue and swirl it around the leaking head.

Crowley moaned like he’d just been shot, and the noise was quickly swallowed by Ezra’s greedy mouth. The blond forced his questing tongue into Crowley’s slack lips. The taller man could taste the bitter salt of his own pre-come; so similar to seawater yet so different at the same time. 

Crowley was helpless to do anything but lie there and take what his mate saw fit to give him. Ezra broke the kiss to affix his teeth onto Crowley’s neck and bite down hard enough to send crimson blooming beneath the redhead’s skin in an unconscious mirror of his own Mark. Crowley shouted, the pain of the bite suffused with mounting pleasure as Ezra added another bruise to the opposite side. 

Crowley’s chest heaved with desperate pants.

“‘Ngel…” he slurred, body twitching.

At some point, Crowley wasn’t sure when, Ezra’s hands had moved back to his wrists and the angel had switched to sucking the skin right atop where he’d just bitten. Crowley stared up at the vast expanse of the endless sky above him, heedless of anything else that wasn’t the feel of his mate pinning him to the floor and using him like an oversized toy.

His vision blurred with happy tears as he remembered how, not twelve hours ago, he had held his mate’s dead, broken body in his arms. Now, Ezra was warm and  _ alive  _ atop him, growling loving obscenities into his neck, safe and  _ whole.  _ Crowley let out a relieved sob and wiggled a hand loose to reach up and caress the wings above him; to remind himself that this was  _ real. _

The feel of trembling fingers in his feathers had Ezra gasping in pleasure, before he pushed his hips forward to thrust his and Crowley’s cocks against each other. The two of them groaned in unison, but it was Crowley who jerked upwards, seeking more of that reassuring weight and friction.

His hand fisted into the feathers of Ezra’s wing when he felt the angel wrap a magically slick hand around both of their lengths, bringing them tightly together. 

Crowley let out a keening, needy whine when his mate continued thrusting their bodies together. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to never stop, to somehow fuse the two of them together into one body, one mind, one heart, and one  _ soul  _ so that neither death nor time could ever separate them again.

The words he’d been unable to articulate under the onslaught of Ezra’s ministrations suddenly burst out of his mouth, no longer able to be contained or kept quiet.

“I’m gonna- don’t stop!  _ Please! Fuck!  _ I love you! I love you!  _ Angel!” _

“Yes, my darling. That’s it. Let me hear you…”

“Please! I- I can’t… ah!  _ Ahh! ANGEL!!” _

Crowley’s body tensed and his climax washed over him, threatening to sweep him away from the force of it. The comforting feel of Ezra’s arms around him kept him tethered to shore, however, and he drifted back to awareness to find the angel’s wings mantled protectively over the two of them.

Unfortunately, his feathers looked even worse than before.

Crowley snorted and buried his face in his mate’s chest, shoulders quaking with restrained laughter.

“Goodness…” Ezra remarked, staring at the mess on his hand and smeared over their stomachs. “I think I rather got carried away a bit there. Are you alright?”

“Never better,” Crowley purred, stretching out his legs.

The bruises and bites smarted, but he enjoyed the feel of them and was even contemplating asking Ezra to leave matching ones on his  _ other  _ leg - it wouldn’t do to be asymmetrical! The angel glanced over his shoulder towards the Captain’s Cabin. Medina didn’t seem to have noticed them, and Ezra sat up, pulling Crowley into a seated position.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re alright?” the blond asked nervously. “I  _ did…  _ well…”

Crowley hummed and scooted closer to his mate before deciding to throw subtlety to the wind and crawled into Ezra’s lap to rest his head on his shoulder. The redhead wrapped his arms around Ezra’s middle. Neither of them were particularly bothered by the sticky spend between them, though Ezra still took the liberty of dissipating it with a wave of his hand.

“I’m  _ fine,  _ angel. Although…” Crowley’s eyes glittered with ill-concealed mischief. “I wouldn’t object to spending the rest of the trip curled up here, wrapped in your gorgeously rumpled wings.”

“They wouldn’t  _ be  _ rumpled if it weren’t for you. You were  _ supposed  _ to help me groom them!” Ezra grumbled petulantly, but acquiesced.

He brought his wings in around the pair of them. Crowley nuzzled closer into his mate’s embrace.

“Looks like your fancy new wings are  _ very sensitive,”  _ he said cheekily. “I’ll have to remember that for later.”

“Ha! No more so than your  _ legs,  _ dearest. Don’t think I didn’t hear you making those beautiful sounds every time I kissed them,” Ezra bit back.

In demonstration, he ran his hands up Crowley’s unmarked thigh in a barely-there touch. His husband shivered, goosebumps breaking out across his skin.

“Keep that up, angel, and I might just be tempted to go again,” Crowley hummed.

“I’ll save it for later, then,” Ezra whispered.

And he did…

...but not before delivering one more sneaky pinch to Crowley’s inner thigh.

***~*~*~*~***

1He’d made sure to magic his shirt away before opening his wings.[return to text]

2A good nickname for Ezra, that.[return to text]

3To his chagrin, Crowley had discovered that he only had one while in human form.[return to text]

4Crowley hadn’t had legs long enough to grow hair, yet.[return to text]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! For those of you who haven't seen/read it yet, I posted another chapter for Part 3 of this series, "3 Hours Earlier". Chapter 1 is the main event, but there's a bit of a divergence in the endings. Chapter 2 is the "happy" ending and Chapter 3 is the "unhappy" ending. If you decide to read chapter 3 of "3 Hours Earlier" PLEASE pay attention to the tags I put at the beginning of it! Otherwise, if you're a pain-slut, enjoy! :D


	45. Epilogue Chapter 7: The Golden Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For septentrrion, who requested Crowley and his sisters watching "The Golden Girls", domestic fluff, and kissing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the show's dialogue is copied word-for-word from "The Golden Girls" Season 2, Episode 4.

Ezra entered the flat he shared with his husband, the door clicking softly shut behind him. On the couch, Crowley snorted awake and stretched, all five metres of tail cracking and popping. His sisters, who had joined him for an impromptu cuddle-puddle, spilled out of his lap and onto the floor with four distinct splats.

 _“Hey!”_ Blanche snapped at Crowley from her position pinned beneath Rose. _“What was that for?!”_

 _“Brother-Mate has returned from his hunt!”_ Dorothy cheered, poking her head out from where she’d tumbled under the sofa.

Ezra shucked off his coat, hung it up by the door, then held up a plastic shopping bag.

“Not quite a hunt, my darling. Shopping!” he announced to the room. He was fixed with a curious stare from his husband, who hadn’t bothered shifting out of his more serpentine form.

“What have you got there?” Crowley asked, pointing at the bag.

“Something I think the five of you will be _very_ interested in,” the angel explained, fishing out a cellophane-wrapped, boxy object. He held it aloft with a triumphant, “Ta-daa!”

Crowley tilted his head in confusion as he read the words on the object aloud.

“‘The Golden Girls Complete DVD Box Set’... what’s a ‘Golden Girl’?”

“It’s a fun little television show that was quite popular in its time. Each of the main characters shares a name with your sisters: Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia,” Aziraphale spoke up excitedly, puttering across the room to the telly.

At the mention of each of their names, Crowley’s sisters perked up their heads and clambored back onto the couch to see what their Brother-Mate was talking about. Five sets of snakish eyes watched as Ezra popped out one of the DVDs, slipped it into the player, and used the remote to scroll through the menu that popped up.

Crowley, still somewhat in disbelief that “television” was a thing that existed, stared on, transfixed. He bunched his coils up close to himself to give Ezra room to plonk down on the couch beside him. There was a bit of a scuffle between Blanche and Sophia over which one of them got to sit in his lap, but they settled on a _sort of_ compromise wherein Sophia curled up in the highly coveted spot, while Blanche draped over his shoulders.

Crowley scooted closer to wrap an arm around Ezra’s waist from behind. “This is nice.”

Ezra smiled pleasantly. “It’s about to get better! I haven’t watched much of this show, but I have a list here of the most popular episodes. Let’s see…” 

He scrolled down to season two and clicked on the fourth episode. Almost immediately, Cynthia Fee’s perky voice piped through the speakers.

_“Thank you for being a friend…”_

Crowley perked up just as quickly. Ezra snuggled happily into his embrace. 

When the tallest of the four women came on screen, Rose pointed with her tail. _“Who’s that? She looks tough. Is that me?”_ she asked excitedly, looking from the screen, to Ezra, to the screen again.

Ezra smiled awkwardly. “Ah… no. That’s Dorothy.”

Everyone gathered watched as the character in question flipped through a clipboard with a rapidly falling face.

_“...ma, three of these people are dead.”_

As the background erupted into canned laughter, the _real_ Dorothy sighed wistfully.

 _“She sounds so_ **_confident…”_ ** she said before burying her head in her brother’s hair to hide her face. _“I wish_ **_I_ ** _was confident.”_

“Bullshit,” Crowley said. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Indeed,” Ezra added, determined to help the small snake see her own worth. “Why, if it weren’t for you and your sisters helping me that _awful_ day, I would have lost Crowley. You four tracked him down, and brought me to him.”

The naga beside him was briefly consumed with guilt and grief. Their time spent away from the island, however, had been instrumental in allowing him to make peace with the events of their final day on its shores. Still, he couldn’t help but press himself a little closer.

Ezra, thankfully, didn’t mention it.

When he turned back to the screen, the Golden Girls were seated in what appeared to be some type of court house, with a sour-faced woman dressed in grey ranting about destroying some tree or other. Outraged, human Rose leapt to her feet to give the vile woman a piece of her mind.

_“Mrs. Claxton, think about what you’re doing! That beautiful tree is 200 years old!”_

“Sounds like someone else we know,” Ezra said with an elbow nudge to his husband.

Crowley hissed in mock outrage and playfully shoved him back. “It’s _300,_ angel.”

 _“I don’t_ **_like_ ** _thissss version of me! She seemsss too soft!”_ Rose objected, nodding at where her pink-clad counterpart was giving an impassioned plea for her rival to have some mercy.

 **_“I_ ** _like her,”_ Dorothy said nervously. Expressions on a snake were already difficult to read, but it was clear that she was quite taken with this “sweeter” version of her beloved sister.

Onscreen, however, “Rose” seemed to have reached the end of her tether.

_“I have had_ **_all_ ** _I’m gonna take from you! Now if you don’t have the common decency to treat people like human beings, well then, I’m sure as Hell not gonna waste my time kissing your fanny! Now if you don’t like it, Mrs. Claxton, you just sit there and_ **_shut up_ ** _while we have our say! And if you_ **_don’t_ ** _like it you can just_ **_drop dead!”_ **

Mrs. Claxton gave a silent gasp and then immediately toppled over, apparently having taken “Rose”’s orders to heart.

Ezra and Dorothy gasped, Crowley burst into loud cackles, and Rose nodded her head appreciatively.

_“Never mind. I like her now. She has had a successful kill,”_

That only served to deepen Crowley’s howling laughter to which Ezra shot him a disapproving frown.

As the naga’s laughter died down to chortles, the Golden Girls began discussing how they could go about setting up a funeral for the late Mrs. Claxton, who had no friends or loved ones to do it for her. Human Sophia was the most vocal about the funeral, citing an old Sicilian custom whereupon it was considered good luck to bury an enemy.

“Is that true?” Ezra asked curiously. From the tone of his voice, it was clear that he didn’t quite believe Human Sophia’s statement.

Crowley simply shrugged.

“Don’t know. Never been anywhere _near_ Italy, even when I was raiding ships _legally,”_ he said.

“Mm. Neither have I. It’s a shame, because I’ve always wanted to try an _authentic_ Italian pizza,” Ezra sighed, staring longingly at the telly.

His husband nuzzled his face.

“Then I’ll take you there one day, angel,” he said softly. “I took you to your mother’s stars, didn’t I?”

“That you did, my love,”

Ezra tilted his head, intent on capturing Crowley’s lips in a kiss, when Sophia (the snake, not the woman) rattled her tail in response to a joke made by her namesake.

_“‘Equally’?! I figured your share should be about half! After all, you’re the one who killed her!”_

Sophia continued rattling; her own version of laughter. Blanche, meanwhile, had remained steadfastly silent. Her brother and his mate couldn’t decipher whether or not she was enjoying the show, and they frequently glanced at her out of the corner of their eyes while it played.

By this point, the Golden Girls had arrived at a funeral home to begin planning for Mrs. Claxton’s burial. The director handed a card to “Dorothy”.

_“How may I be of service to you?”_

_“Well, Mr. Pfiefer-”_

_“No, it's_ **_P_ ** _fiefer. The ‘P’ is_ **_not_ ** _silent,”_

 _“Well… um… Mr._ **_P_ ** _fiefer…”_

Crowley barked out a laugh that startled Dorothy into burrowing deeper in his hair.

_“Isn’t that_ **_lovely?_ ** _The three of you planning ahead for mother,”_

The oldest of the Golden Girls then threatened to give a “punch to yer **p-** face” to the director and this time Sophia, Rose, _and_ Crowley joined in four sets of hissing snickers. Ezra allowed himself a small, secretive smile.

The scene then transitioned to the show’s titular characters haggling with Mr. Pfiefer over the cost of a casket.

_“How_ **_much?”_ **

_“It’s also lead-lined,”_

_“We’re not burying Superman. How much?”_

“Who’s ‘Superman’?” Crowley asked confusedly. He thought it was a pretty bizarre name to give a kid. 

“A popular American superhero,” Ezra replied, reaching a hand over to pat his husband’s arm. “I’ll show you some of the comics later.”

Crowley made a noise of consideration and turned back to the telly. Mrs. Claxton’s funeral progressed as expected, with no one in attendance. Then a woman in a dark blue dress entered the chapel, was assured that she wasn’t too late for the service, and began delivering a heartrending speech about her dearest, departed friend.

_“Today is a day of great sadness; not only for me, but also for the many people whose lives have been touched by the warmth and kindness of this woman who is lying here. I wish I knew how many charities and hospitals and orphanages have benefited from her generosity. But now, no one will_ **_ever_ ** _know because she preferred to do all her good work_ **_anonymously._ ** _I’m sure that a lot of people never even knew that she worked for fifteen years in a leper colony.”_

Ezra made a little moue of sadness, but Crowley’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I call bullshit,” he said with finality.

The angel gasped, scandalized.

 _“Really,_ Crowley?” he said frostily, gesturing at the screen. “Is it so hard to believe that someone who appears outwardly cruel could actually be home to a tender, loving heart?”

The former pirate opened his mouth to retort when “Blanche” cut him off to inform the woman in navy that she had come to the wrong funeral.

_“This funeral isn’t_ **_for_ ** _‘Celia Rubenstein’, it’s for_ **_Frida Claxton!”_ **

Ezra’s mouth dropped open in mute horror, perfectly mirroring the Golden Girls’, when the accidental funeral crasher lashed out with her shoe to kick at Mrs. Claxton’s cheap, pine box of a casket. He didn’t need to turn his head and look to know his husband was shooting him a fangy, shit-eating grin.

Ezra’s look of shock only deepened when Mr. Pfiefer returned once the funeral had concluded to inform everyone that Mrs. Claxton had accidentally been cremated, and that her ashes were now _their_ responsibility.

Crowley stood a _very_ good chance of being forced to sleep on the sofa that night if he so much as _giggled_ at his mate’s distress, so he held himself back by sucking his lips behind his fangs to stifle the sound. He sat there in agonizing, barely-concealed mirth for the last ten minutes of the episode and, when the end-credits rolled, he exhaled in relief.

No couch banishment for _him_ tonight!

“So! What did you all think?” Ezra asked.

Crowley hummed happily. “I liked it! Are there more?”

“Indeed!” the angel answered, gesturing to the box on the coffee table. “We’ve got every single episode!”

Sophia slid out of his lap and onto the table, nibbling at a corner of it to try and pull out another one of the DVDs. 

Evidently she approved of the idea of more episodes.

 _“Those old ladies are fierce hunters! I hope to see more of their successful kills!”_ Rose said, with as close to a stubborn arm-cross as one could get when one does not _have_ arms.

 _“Miss Rose is very kind,”_ Dorothy said, peeping out of her brother’s hair. The _real_ Rose hissed indignantly. _“I like her.”_

“And what about you, Blanche darling? You’ve been uncharacteristically silent,” Ezra remarked to the snake around his shoulders.

Blanche didn’t reply. 

She simply stared blankly ahead.

Crowley lowered his face to hers. As soon as he did, he threw his head back with a frustrated groan.

“That little… little… she must have fallen asleep before the show even started!” he grumbled with a flick to her snout. Blanche shook her head as she awoke.

 _“What? Wha’ssss going on? Is it over?”_ she mumbled sleepily.

“I suppose we can’t all be fans of classical television,” Ezra chuckled, stroking the top of her head with his pointer and middle finger.

Blanche nuzzled closer to his neck with what sort of passed for an apologetic smile. _“Sorry, Brother-Mate. You are simply too warm.”_

“That’s what _I_ always tell him,” Crowley chuckled, the end of his tail winding around Ezra’s ankle.

“All discussions of my body temperature aside, now you know why I was so surprised to hear that you’d named all your sisters after the Golden Girls. It really _was_ quite the coincidence,” the blond said, shifting closer to his husband.

“Eh, each of them were named after someone or something I knew,” Ezra made a noise of confusion, so Crowley elaborated, ticking off on his fingers. “Roses are my favorite flowers, Blanche - French for the feminine version of white - is my favorite color, and Sophia and Dorothy were the names of the twin thieves who taught me how to survive on the streets after the orphanage I grew up in kicked me out. Before Edward, and _far_ before you, they had been the only humans to have ever treated me with kindness.”

“Oh, _dearest._ Thank you for telling me this,” Ezra said softly. He pressed a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. Then, his own quirked up into a smile. “White is your favorite color, eh? I always thought it’d be black.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Crowley smirked. He reached over and pinched a single snowy curl belonging to the angel beside him. He brought their faces closer until they were less than a breath apart. “But you’d be wrong.”

Crowley’s sisters, already sensing that a tender snog was imminent, quickly slithered away to various hidey-holes throughout the flat.

All apart from poor Blanche, who had fallen back asleep around Ezra’s neck and remained so even as her brother and Brother-Mate’s mouths came together.


	46. Epilogue Chapter 8: Anniversary (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley sneaks out to get a gift for his and Ezra's first wedding anniversary, but comes home to a heartbreaking surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are for Ann_Onemouse, who requested an Epilogue Chapter of Crowley/Ezra attempting to buy The Island so they could legally go back.

**August 1st, 2022 (One Year After Leaving the Island)**

Crowley was determined to make this day absolutely _perfect_ for his mate. 

It was their first wedding anniversary, and he had _plans!_

While Ezra slept in, the naga slid out of bed and shifted back to his more human-looking form. He slipped on his pajama pants and crept out into the hallway, making sure to close their bedroom door soundlessly behind him. The clock on the wall told him that it was 6:30 a.m., which meant he had at least half an hour before Ezra woke up to begin his morning routine. When he padded out into the living room, his sisters were already waiting for him on the sofa, Ezra’s laptop between them.

In the year since returning to London, Crowley had made astonishing progress in adapting to the modern world, though he still struggled with a few more complex ideas. Thankfully, computers and “The World Wide Web” had been something he took to like a duck takes to whatever it is they take to, so it was a trivial matter for him to open the angel’s laptop, type in the password (“Crepes”), and bring up his chosen browser.

Blanche broke the silence of the flat with a semi-whispered, _“Did it work? Did you get it?”_

Crowley pushed her snout away from the screen. “Give me a moment to check and we’ll _see,”_ he said, a bit more agitatedly than he’d intended.

His nerves were understandable, however. For the past several months, he’d been working in secret on getting the _perfect_ anniversary gift for Ezra. It had taken some thought, and a lot of lessons on how to properly work a computer, but hopefully everything would be paying off today.

Crowley opened his email and scrolled through his inbox before he found three separate emails: one from the English Nature Conservancy Network, another from El Fondo Español para la Naturaleza, and a third from L'Organisation Amandine.

Each one had rejected his offer to buy The Island.

Money obviously wasn’t the issue. He’d sold his old bag of dubloons that he had made from the raid on Anathema’s family’s ship to several maritime history enthusiasts, and made quite the pretty penny from them. Conservancy wasn’t the issue either, as he had stated in the offer letter that he would be _more_ than happy to continue keeping the island tourist-free.

As Crowley read each email in turn, dread sinking into his stomach with a leaden weight, it became clear that someone else had _already_ bought it.

He’d been too late.

Crowley closed the laptop with a sigh, slumping on the couch. Dorothy quickly slithered up his arm to curl up atop his head.

 _“What’s wrong, Brother?”_ she asked, already knowing the answer.

“They didn’t sell me the island,” Crowley said. He sucked in a breath through his nose, but it did little to cool his frustration. “Now I don’t have _anything_ to give Ezra today.”

Blanche scoffed and rolled her head (she couldn’t well roll her eyes). _“Brother-Mate doesn’t_ **_need_ ** _anything to make today special for him. You know this!”_

Crowley grabbed two fistfuls of his red hair, almost knocking Dorothy from her perch. “That’ssss not the _point!_ He _desssserves_ something special! Sssomething… better than me…”

He was cut off from his self-depreciative spiral by Blanche lashing out and nipping his thigh; not hard enough to puncture the skin, but enough to make a point. The part-time-naga yelped and drew his legs up to his chest.

 _“Shut up, dummy!”_ Blanche said, pushing herself up until the two of them were eye-level. _“Brother-Mate thinksss the world of you, and so do we! If it’ll get you to ssssstop this ‘pity party’, we’ll all help you come up with something to really impress him!”_

Crowley exhaled slowly, untucking his body as he went. It had been a long, hard journey to self-love and self-acceptance for himself, but everyday it got a little easier. Sometimes, however, those same feelings of worthlessness reared their ugly head whenever things didn’t quite go the way he had wanted. Thankfully, his mate and sisters were a _fantastic_ support network, and reminded him of his own value as a brother, husband, and friend when he himself couldn’t. “Thank you,” he said, choking on the sudden upwelling of gratitude. “I, uh… I won’t turn down your help.”

Sophia rattled out a cheer and began twisting her body and shaking her tail in her own version of sign-language that was too fast for her brother to follow. 

He made a vague noise of confusion, so Rose was forced to step in and offer a suggestion of her own. _“Why not go on a hunt for him? Bring back some fine prey!”_ she declared.

“Not a lot of prey animals in London, I’m afraid,” Crowley chuckled defeatedly. Then, he paused, face going slack in realization. “Actually… I just got an idea. There’s this bakery that Ezra’s been wanting to go to for a _while,_ but they’re so far out of the way that we haven’t gone yet. Think you could distract him for me while I go and get him something from there?”

Each of his sisters either answered in the affirmative, or saluted with their tails. Crowley shared a conspiratorial nod, then jumped up from the sofa to snatch their car keys off the coffee table, as well as a pair of sunglasses. He spared exactly half a minute to throw on an old t-shirt from the laundry room, and then was out the door in a flash of red and black.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Rose, Blanche, and Sophia all turned to each other.

 _“Alright, we need to keep Brother-Mate from finding out Brother’s surprise present. Any ideas?”_ Blanche asked.

Rose looked towards the ceiling, pensive.

 _“The Beep-Box [1]_ _by their bed will make its noise soon. What if we stop it from doing so? Brother-Mate will sleep longer and give Brother more time to prepare,”_ she said decisively.

Sophia rattled in agreement.

 _“Good idea,”_ Blanche said. _“What about you, Dorothy? Any ideas to add?”_

The smallest sister didn’t answer.

_“Dorothy?”_

The other three looked around the living room for their wayward sibling, but could find neither fang nor scale of her.

_“Did she ever climb off Brother’s head?!”_

***~*~*~*~***

One of the _first_ things Crowley had wanted to do upon discovering the 21st century was learn how to drive. Ezra, bless his heart, had taught him as best he could, but over the past year Crowley never _quite_ internalized the idea of “stop lights” and “brakes”. As such, his mate had practically been _forced_ to cast a small enchantment over the coupe they shared so that Crowley wouldn’t end up in a fiery crash or pulled over for going ninety down Oxford street.

On this morning, Crowley was infinitely grateful for the angel’s foresight as he tore down the road.. Atop his head, Dorothy continuously shrieked (or, well, hissed in fright) as the two of them weaved between fellow motorists and pedestrians alike.

 _“Pleasssse, Brother, slow down!”_ she cried, tangled up in fire-red hair like it was a lifeline.

“Can’t. Need to get Ezra’s gift before he wakes up. Let’s face facts, the other three mean well but _you’re_ the smart one. For all we know, they’ve already spilled the beans,”

Despite her fear, Dorothy managed to bashfully hide her face.

 _“I sssuppose you have a point. Sssstill, I would prefer that we_ **_survive_ ** _long enough to bring Brother-Mate’s gift back,”_

Crowley grinned at her through the rearview mirror.

“Come on, Dor, have I _ever_ steered you wrong?” 

Dorothy decided not to answer that.

***~*~*~*~***

In his and Crowley’s bedroom, Ezra slept on, blissfully unaware of the three pairs of serpentine eyes peering at him from over the foot of the bed. Beside him, his alarm clock read “6:55”, which meant it was likely to go off in five minutes.

 _“How do we stop the Beep-Box from making the noise?”_ Blanche asked as quietly as she could, watching in horror at the time ticked over to 6:56. 

Sophia pointed at the power cord with her rattle. None of the snakes quite understood “electricity”. All they knew was that if they removed the cord from its little nook in the wall, then the Beep-Box would remain silent. It changed again, this time to 6:57, and Rose made a decision. With a speed that belied her massive size, she slithered across the floor and up onto the nightstand. Sophia and Blanche watched on in silent awe as the constrictor unhinged her jaw and swallowed the entire alarm clock whole. Rose gave a tug with her large head and the power cord came free from the wall, disappearing into her mouth like a spaghetti noodle.

Once it was completely ingested, she thumped back to the floor and then slithered to where the other two were waiting. _“Alright, that should do it. It will buy us some time at least.”_

***~*~*~*~***

Almost an hour later, Crowley pulled into the parking lot of My Sweet Addiction just as the sign was turned to “open”. 

“Alright, Dor, let’s go!” he said, killing the engine. Dorothy twisted her body in such a way that she was able to dangle in front of his face.

 _“Wait! Why do_ **_I_ ** _have to go in? Can’t I jusssssst stay here where it’s safe?”_

“It’s the middle of summer! You might overheat!” Crowley protested, concern for his older sister’s wellbeing flaring up for a moment.

Dorothy said nothing, and simply gestured with her head at the “No Animals Allowed” sign. She watched her brother’s shoulders slump, then immediately tense back up. Crowley took his long hair in hand and pulled it back. “Alright, Plan B. _You_ are going to wrap around this, be quiet, and pretend to be a scrunchy.”

Dorothy made a dainty, _offended_ noise. She’d already done it plenty of times for comfort in the past, but doing it _now_ as a form of _espionage_ had her feeling somewhat indignant at it all. Nonetheless, she wound around her brother’s hair as tightly as she could and hid her face inside it so that, to a casual observer, she just looked like an orange-brown hair tie.

Crowley sucked in a breath to psyche himself up, then made for the door.

***~*~*~*~***

Unfortunately, Rose’s “brilliant” plan only bought them an extra twenty minutes. Ezra woke up at 7:22, went to check his alarm, saw that it was _gone,_ and sat upright in shock. He groped around the nightstand and peered over the side, as if it had simply fallen to the floor. When no missing alarm clock made itself visible, he pulled his phone out of the bedside drawer and checked the time on _that_ instead _._

Unseen by Ezra, Crowley’s sisters watched him from a gap in the bedroom door. They saw him look at his phone, and exhale with relief.

“Oh thank goodness!” he said. “I haven’t missed it.”

He rolled out of bed but instead of getting changed out of his pajamas, began digging through the closet. He rummaged around further in the back, then dragged out a heavy-looking, tartan-print suitcase. He spent the next several minutes taking clothing out of the closet and folding it up to put inside the luggage.

When 7:30 on the dot rolled around, his phone went off and Ezra scrambled to answer it.

 _“Who do you think he’s talking to?”_ Blanche asked softly.

Whoever it was, the call was evidently very brief.

“Thank you _so much_ for- wait. You want to meet _now?!_ But it’s… oh very well. I’ll be there shortly,”

The angel snapped his fingers and instantly changed out of his pajamas into a crisp, white, slim-fit suit with grey undershirt and perfectly-knotted tartan tie. He needlessly straightened his lapels in the mirror above the dresser and marched out of the bedroom, every inch a debonair man on a mission.

He would have stepped on Crowley’s sisters had they not made their presence known by pushing the door open with their snouts. Ezra froze like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and slightly panicked. “Ah… hello my darlings. How long have you been there?”

Neither of the three said anything, but simply slithered aside to allow him to pass. Ezra glanced around the living room and inquired as to where his husband was.

 _“Out hunting!”_ Rose answered, wriggling uncomfortably, struggling to figure out just how much was safe to tell and how much could potentially give away her brother’s surprise.

“Ah. Must be getting breakfast then. I need to step out for a moment. If I’m not back before he is, let him know that I’ll return shortly,”

 _“Wait, where are you going?”_ Blanche called after him, but he had already vanished with a click of his fingers.

***~*~*~*~***

_“This_ cake, right here, is our House Special,” the woman behind the counter said, tapping at the glass that separated her from the goodies within. Crowley nodded vaguely. “It’s a devil’s food cake with a chocolate buttercream icing and shredded white chocolate atop it with buttercream roses along the border.”

Dorothy dared to peek a single, bulbous eye out. _“Ooh! Get_ **_that_ ** _one! It’s so_ **_pretty!”_ **

Even Crowley, who knew next to nothing about baked goods, had to nod in agreement. He pointed to the two-layered cake in question.

“Yeah. Sounds perfect. How much?”

The woman quoted a price and Crowley handed her a slim, plastic card. He understood modern currency as a concept perfectly, but the idea that he could simply pay for things using a small piece of plastic still threw him for a loop every time. 

As the redhead watched the cashier box up Ezra’s gift, he found himself thinking how much _easier_ it was to pay for things now that he didn’t have to lug around a pouch of coins anymore.

“Here you are, sir!” the woman chirped, passing Crowley a pink box wrapped in silver ribbon across the counter. He took it with cautious reverence. “I hope you enjoy your purchase and come back to My Sweet Addiction soon!”

Crowley hummed noncommittally and spun on his heel to head back to the car. He didn’t want to waste time exchanging pleasantries, not when his anniversary surprise hung so precariously in the balance.

He’d _almost_ made it outside when the cashier shrieked, _“Sir!_ There’s a _snake_ in your hair!” Crowley froze with his hand inches from the door handle as the woman continued screaming about how she needed to call 999 or the RSPCA. Or both. The currently-not-a-naga-but-still-very-much-capable-of-becoming-one decided to book it before officers of _either_ variety showed up.

He practically _flung_ himself into the car and peeled out of the parking lot as if he were fleeing Armageddon. It wasn’t until My Sweet Addiction was _far_ in the rearview mirror that he allowed himself to relax.

“You alright back there, Dor?” he asked.

Dorothy uncoiled herself from his ponytail and flopped into the passenger seat beside the cake box. _“I’m ssssorry. It was my fault we almost got into trouble.”_ she sniffled, fidgeting guiltily.

“Hey! None of that now!” Crowley scolded her. He reached one hand over to brush the back of a knuckle over her head in a comforting gesture. “It’s not your fault. That lady just had better eyes than most. We’re both okay, and so is the cake. Hopefully, when we get back, Ezra will be none the wiser to our little expedition.”

***~*~*~*~***

It had been almost an hour since Ezra’s abrupt departure and neither he _nor_ Crowley had returned. Unsure of what to do, Blanche, Sophia, and Rose decided to do some snooping. The trio poked their heads into every nook and cranny of the flat, but could find no trace of any hidden present or secret plans regarding what Ezra intended to do for the anniversary.

 _“Perhaps he has gone out to hunt for it?”_ Rose suggested. _“Like Brother?”_

Sophia rattled in agreement.

 _“We didn’t check the Carry-Box," [2] _Blanche pointed out, slithering to the bedroom. _“He could have put it in there.”_

The other two followed as the white-gold viper crawled onto the bed using one of the posts and stuck her head into the suitcase.

_“Anything?”_

If Blanche could have furrowed her brow, she would have. _“No. It’s just all of Brother-Mate’s Not-Skin. [3] _ _What is he doing with all this?”_

_“Is he going somewhere?”_

None of the three had any answers, nor did they have time to ponder the strangeness of Ezra’s behavior, as they then heard the front door open. Judging by the sounds of sauntering footsteps, Crowley and Dorothy had returned.

Sophia was the first to greet them with a welcoming rattle as Dorothy was gently set back down on the floor. 

Crowley placed the cake box on the kitchen counter. “So, what’s the situation? Either of you three let the surprise slip?”

Rose and Sophia shook their heads, but then Blanche practically shouted, _“Brother-Mate is gone, but he said he’d be back soon!”_

Crowley blinked in surprise. “‘Gone’? What do you mean ‘gone’?” he asked confusedly.

Rose gave the snake-ish equivalent of a shrug. _“We do not know. Someone spoke to him on the Talky-Box [4]_ _and he said he was going to meet them. He put on a nice Not-Skin and left very quickly.”_

Crowley felt a twist of something agonizing in his chest. His own words from hours ago echoed tauntingly in his head.

_“He deserves something special! Something… better than me…”_

“Did Ezra...” he began, not wanting to give into those creeping feelings of inadequacy. Despite his best intentions, however, he could feel his control on them slipping. A little part of him, the part that Ezra had spent so long nurturing, scolded him for worrying needlessly. “Did he do or sssay anything else before leaving?”

 _“He took out his Carry-Box! It’s on the bed,”_ Blanche replied as Sophia slithered off to show him.

_His suitcase? Why does he need his suitcase?_

It was most likely nothing. Ezra must have simply been cleaning out the closet and forgot to put it away. That was all. His mate was rather fussy regarding many details, so it made perfect sense that he would do some tidying up. 

Perfectly reasonable.

_If that’s true, why did he get dressed up to go meet with someone? Someone who_ **_isn’t_ ** _you?_

Before he could stop himself, Crowley followed Sophia into the bedroom and was confronted by his mate’s open suitcase on their bed. Various articles of clothing had been crammed inside, as if in a hurry. Rapidly paling, he realized that all of the clothes inside of it were _Ezra’s._

Not so much as a single _sock_ belonging to Crowley.

Some tiny voice inside him that sounded so much like his mate was screaming at him that he was being irrational, _paranoid_ even. It was telling him that these feelings were simply his fear of abandonment rearing its ugly head again.

That voice, however, was rapidly dimming beneath the crushing, stinging pain at the thought that Crowley was once again losing everything he had loved.

As such, he barely heard the faint chime from the living room that told him Ezra had teleported back from _wherever_ he’d gone and _whoever_ he’d been seeing.

“Hello? I’m home! Darling, are you here?”

Crowley couldn’t muster up the strength to answer. All he could do was stare numbly at the suitcase that would be bearing his life away from him soon. He lifted his eyes just as Ezra walked into the bedroom and froze.

“I, um… I don’t suppose you can pretend you don’t see that?” the blond chuckled nervously, nodding at the case.

Crowley’s emotional dam broke. 

“Angel, tell me the truth…” he practically whispered, sounding as though he were on the verge of splintering into shards. “...are you leaving me?”

***~*~*~*~***

1Alarm Clock[return to text]

2Suitcase[return to text]

3Clothes[return to text]

4Phone[return to text]


	47. Epilogue Chapter 8: Anniversary (Part Two - Final)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra resolves a misunderstanding and the two of them take a stroll down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a bit of self-reference, keep your eye on Chapter 1 and Chapter 9 of this fic, a bit of dialogue/action later in this chapter was lifted from those two.
> 
> Smut Alert! Starts at "How about I show you?" and continues until the end of the chapter.

_ “Angel, tell me the truth. Are you leaving me?” _

***~*~*~*~***

“W… what are you talking about?” Ezra asked half-desperately.

Crowley flailed his arms in a gesture that seemed to be encompassing everything in his general area. 

“All  _ thisss!  _ Th… the outfit and the ssssuitcase and the meeting ssssssomeone and- and-” There was a brittle tone in his voice that called to mind the sounds of a broken heart. What little white remained of his sclera was being rapidly eclipsed tear-induced redness. Then, he was suddenly across the room, full naga form wrapped around his mate in a near-painful embrace. His hands clawed into the back of Ezra’s suit jacket, clinging to him as if to keep him from  _ physically  _ leaving. “Whoever it is,  _ they can’t have you!  _ You’re… you’re  _ my  _ mate! That’ssss  _ my  _ Mark! I won’t…  _ I won’t let them take you away from me!” _

“Oh… oh my poor darling…” Ezra cooed, trying to wiggle his arms free to embrace his husband.

At the feel of his mate trying to get away, Crowley panicked and tightened his hold a fraction, but Ezra still managed to get his arms loose anyways. One hand came up to stroke through hair as red as a sunset, while the other hand rubbed up and down Crowley’s back. “My dear, sweet serpent… oh this is all my fault. I made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

Crowley whimpered and pressed his face against the spot where he instinctively knew Ezra’s Mating Mark to be. He mouthed at it through the fabric, but made no move to take his hands from the angel’s back and get to it.

The naga closed his eyes and mumbled, “...can’t have you…”

“My love, I’m  _ not leaving you;  _ now, or  _ ever.  _ I love you more than  _ life itself.  _ More than writing, more than fancy cakes, more than  _ anything.  _ The suitcase and the meeting they… they’re all part of your anniversary gift,” Ezra said, trying to pour as much truth into his words as they could hold.

When the angel made no move to push him away, Crowley lifted his face from where he’d been hiding it.

“My… my gift?” he asked, daring to allow  _ hope  _ to creep into his heart.

“M-hm! I’d hoped to surprise you with it after a lovely brunch, but… well…” Ezra cleared his throat. “If you’d be so kind as to let go for a moment, I’ll show you!”

Crowley almost refused, but acquiesced in the end. He unlooped his coils and Ezra stepped out from between them. He puttered into the living room, retrieved his computer, and brought it back to set in his lap while he sat down on the edge of the bed. Crowley watched him type for a moment, then turn the screen towards him to present an email.

“‘Mr. Crowley-Fell…’” Crowley read out loud, bending down on his tail to see better. “‘We would like to inform you that your generous offer has been accepted. Our representative, Mariam Austin, will contact you shortly in order to finalize the details regarding your purchase of…” He trailed off, mouth going slack.

Crowley snatched the laptop from Ezra and scrolled through the blond’s inbox, finding two similar emails, one in French, and the other in Spanish. His thoughts, which had just minutes ago been flying faster than their car down the motorway, ground completely to a halt. All he could do was lift wide, disbelieving eyes to Ezra, who smiled at him through ones shining with profound emotion.

“It took nearly all my earnings from  _ The Mermaid’s Tale,  _ but I did it. I bought our island,” the angel said, savoring the way his husband gazed at him with open awe.

“You… I tried to… but you…”

“That’s who I was meeting today. I wanted to make a good impression on Ms. Austin when I signed the paperwork, hence the suit, and I started packing because I wanted to have everything ready to surprise you with a trip to the place that had been our first home,” he admitted softly, giving the other a gentle smile.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then  _ everything  _ happened.

Crowley practically  _ lunged  _ across the room to pin his mate to the mattress and kiss him  _ desperately.  _ Ezra’s lips parted around a surprised cry and Crowley took the opportunity to slip his forked tongue inside with a groan. His hands wormed their way beneath the angel to cup his arse and press their bodies closer together.

Ezra broke their kiss with a breathless, shaky giggle. Crowley simply moved onto tugging the jacket’s collar aside so he could pepper kisses to every centimeter of skin revealed. 

“Da- darling… if you don’t stop, we’ll  _ never  _ make it back to the island,” Ezra said giddily, trying to push his husband off of him.

Crowley momentarily ceased his affectionate assault to prop himself up on his elbows and stare down, utterly besotted, at the wonderful man beneath him.

“Oh  _ come on,  _ angel… it’sssss not going anywhere…” he purred, closing his eyes and leaning down for another kiss. “Let me thank you with sssssomething that’s a bit more  _ substantial  _ than cake.”

His lips collided with the bedspread, however, and he sat upright with a confused hiss. Somehow, Ezra had managed to squirm free and was practically  _ power-walking  _ out of the bedroom.

“Ooh! There’s  _ cake?!”  _ he called from the hallway, and Crowley flopped onto the mattress with a put-upon (but fond) sigh.

He allowed himself to lay there for a moment, but finally got up to resume his human shape, put on some new pants (in his panic-induced shift earlier, he had accidentally destroyed his pajama bottoms), and join his mate in the kitchen.

Ezra was already sitting at the table, two plates and matching utensils set out, and the cake box opened in front of him. Crowley pulled out a chair beside him and sat down in it.

“So? What do you think? Does it pass muster?” he asked, picking up a knife to begin cutting.

“Oh,  _ darling!  _ It looks  _ fantastic!”  _ Ezra replied with an excited shimmy. “So  _ this  _ is where you were this morning. Rose told me you had gone hunting!”

Crowley let out a huff of laughter and proceeded to cut a generous slice for his mate. “Hunting for cake, maybe.” He precariously balanced the slice on the blade of his knife, then deposited it safely atop Ezra’s waiting plate.

As Crowley watched the blond happily - and noisily - tuck into his sweet, he began to feel remorseful about how shamefully he’d acted not ten minutes prior.

That voice in his head telling him that it had all been a misunderstanding was right… as usual.

Crowley’s face burned in mortification. Not only had he acted like some needy, possessive  _ creature,  _ he’d actively accused his unwaveringly-faithful mate of wanting to  _ leave him!  _

Once again, he’d let his own insecurities take over and nearly ruin what was going to be a  _ perfect  _ day.

Crowley hadn’t even noticed he’d begun sniffling until Ezra gently cupped his face.

“Dearest, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, pressing a comforting kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Crowley shook his head weakly. “I… I’m so  _ sorry,  _ angel. I shouldn’t have lost control back there. I shouldn’t have-” He was silenced by a firmer kiss.

“It’s alright, my love. I understand. It  _ did  _ look rather suspicious. I know you were just scared,” Ezra said when they pulled apart.

“Yessssss, but we’ve been mates for two years and married for one. I should  _ know  _ better than to think you’d jussssst suddenly be sick of me,”

“Perhaps,” he said honestly. “But do keep in mind that you knew  _ Edward  _ for  _ far  _ longer than me, and he still… well… The point is, that complete trust in the fact that I’m not going anywhere will take some time. But we’re working on it, and I’ll remind you  _ every day  _ until you believe me. Even after you do, I’ll still remind you, just because I like to.”

Ezra playfully scrunched up his nose, before delivering a “boop” to his husband’s. Crowley briefly went cross-eyed as he followed the path of the finger in his face, then broke out into a wide, relieved smile.

“I don’t deserve you, angel,” he sighed, pressing their foreheads together.

“You  _ absolutely  _ do, my love,” Ezra retorted, before claiming another kiss.

***~*~*~*~***

Once enough cake had been eaten, the leftovers safely entombed within the refrigerator, and the rest of their bags packed, Crowley and Ezra stood together on the balcony of their flat. Blanche and Dorothy were draped over the angel’s shoulders, while Rose and Sophia did the same on their brother’s.

Crowley lifted a hand over his eyes to shield them from the August sun. “So, how are we getting there? Are you going to fly us with those  _ gorgeous  _ wings of yours?” he asked with a saucy waggle of his eyebrows.

“Hardly,” Ezra scoffed, rolling his eyes. Though he’d gotten quite adept at flying, it was still  _ very much  _ a physical exertion. “I’d drop dead of exhaustion before we cleared Wales.”

_ “What’s the plan, then?”  _ Blanche asked excitedly, nuzzling close to his neck.

By way of response, the angel held up his hand, poised to snap. “A little bit of magic should get us there, no muss no fuss.”

“Are you sure? That’ssssss a  _ long way  _ to teleport. Won’t it, I don’t know, hurt you or sssomething?” Crowley asked in concern.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ve been  _ practicing,”  _ Ezra boasted. “I’ve gotten a bit better at withstanding the physical toll of magic use - I  _ really  _ should find a better word for it than magic - so I should just be a little tired for a bit. Is everyone ready?”

Crowley still looked apprehensive, but nodded. His sisters did the same. With no further fanfare, Ezra snapped his fingers.

Between one breath and the next, the six of them found themselves standing on a  _ very  _ familiar shoreline. The sudden change in heat from the relatively mild English summer to the heavy, tropical one of their old home had each of them reeling for a moment before their bodies acclimated to the temperate shift. 

Crowley’s serpentine aspect  _ revelled  _ in the warmth, and he rolled his shoulders. Rose and Sophia dropped to the sand behind him. 

_ “Bloody Hell,  _ I needed thisss,” he said with a crack of his neck. “How are you doing, angel?”

Ezra swayed on the spot. “T-tickety... boo…”

He pitched forward, and Crowley caught him before he could face-plant into the ground.

“Angel!  _ Angel!”  _ he shouted, adjusting his hold so he could sit in the sand with Ezra in his lap.

His mate’s face scrunched up, then relaxed as his eyelids fluttered open.

“Mmm… Crowley? Good Heavens, how did I get down here?” he mumbled, blinking sleepily.

“You almost fainted, angel. I  _ knew  _ I shouldn’t have let you teleport us here,” Crowley murmured, pulling him closer.

Ezra hummed and sank into the embrace. “Oh stop being such a worry-wiggler. I’m perfectly fine. Though a nap  _ would  _ be… quite appreciated…”

His head lolled against Crowley’s chest and he began to let out tiny, adorable snores as his mouth curled up in the smallest of smiles, pleased that his gift had been well-received. The redhead sighed affectionately and stood, lifting the other man as if he weighed nothing more than a sack of flour.

“You girls wanna see if the nest is still the same as I left it?” he asked, jerking his head in the direction of the well-worn path that led to his old cave.

_ “No! I wanna go see if my old den has been disturbed! I had a lotta nice mouse bones in it and I need to make sure that no seagulls stole them!”  _ Blanche replied.

She didn’t give her brother a chance to say anything else before she darted for the undergrowth. The other three expressed similar concerns about their  _ own  _ abandoned dens and followed her lead, leaving Crowley alone on the beach with his snoozing mate in his arms. He brushed a lock of hair out of Ezra’s eyes, who unconsciously angled his face towards the gentle touch.

“I don’t know  _ what  _ I did to earn your love, but everyday I thank God for it,” Crowley kissed that beloved sleep-slackened brow and started the walk back to their old nest. Though Ezra couldn’t hear him, he continued waxing poetic to his sleepy love. “You know, this whole scenario is  _ very  _ familiar. I remember the first night I met you, how I carried you just like this after you cut your leg.”

His steps faltered for a moment as an idea occurred to him. His face split into a wide, fangy grin and he doubled his pace back to the nest, the beginnings of a  _ plan  _ taking hold.

***~*~*~*~***

When Ezra awoke two hours later, he felt well-rested and re-energized. He sat up in the nest, expecting to find his husband curled up beside him, but he was alone. He stood up, calling Crowley’s name, but no answer was forthcoming.

All that greeted him was his own voice echoing off the walls.

Ezra fidgeted nervously. Had he made Crowley angry? Upset him somehow? Whatever the reason for the redhead’s disappearance, Ezra would get no answers simply standing around, so he set off to get to the bottom of things.

As he entered the antechamber that marked the entrance to the cave, his ears picked up something.

It was a rasping, scraping sound like something  _ heavy  _ being dragged on the ground. Ezra cocked his head to listen better. It was coming closer. The sound, however “frightening”, was one the angel had heard time and time again over the course of his and Crowley’s relationship, and recognized it as the noise his husband’s tail made when it scraped over stones.

“Is that you, darling? Is everything alright?”

From behind him, a pair of rough hands covered his wrists to gently turn him around.

“You… scared?”

Crowley’s voice was strangely gravelly, but still very much his own. Ezra’s worry that his husband may have been angry morphed to gentle concern.

“Are you feeling well? You sound odd,”

Crowley, in the time between their arrival on the island and Ezra’s awakening, had changed into the form he wore when first they met. His lean arms and torso were once again bare, and his hair that had previously been up in a ponytail now curled down his back. Even now, years out from the first time he saw him, Ezra still thought Crowley’s naga form was breathtaking.

Crowley removed one of his hands from Ezra’s wrists to gently caress the side of his face.

“Beautiful,” he said, voice soft.

Ezra’s mouth dropped open a little with a confused noise. “Dearest, you’re worrying me.”

Crowley’s face twisted in such a way that it looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. He slapped at his own chest with broad palms. “Safe.”

Ezra blinked a few times. Then, realization dawned and he squawked, “Are you… are you  _ recreating our first meeting?!” _

The naga looked pleased with himself.

“Yes,” he boasted.

Ezra’s heart raced to the point where it almost made him dizzy. He sat back heavily on his heels, but was pulled back onto his feet by Crowley’s hands clamping around his upper arm. Then, he was gathered up into his husband’s whipcord arms and cradled against his chest.

“Have you,”

Crowley’s chest rumbled under where Ezra’s cheek was pressed against it. The blond tried to remember how their first meeting had gone in order to reenact the steps of the initially awkward interaction that eventually led to their marriage. His mouth curled up in a mischievous smile.

“Do you have a name?” he asked.

The naga shifted his tail until he could lean back against it like a scaly bean bag chair and replied, “Crowley. You?”

“I’m Ezra Crowley-Fell,”

Crowley chuckled. “Not back then, you weren’t,” he said, breaking character.

“Too bad. I refuse to go by anything else now, so you’ll just have to accept it,” Ezra replied haughtily, sticking his tongue out.

Crowley stifled a laugh, managing to make it sound like a grunt. “Angel.”

Ezra, however, was not so “in control” when it came back to holding back laughter.

“Alright, then. You can call me ‘angel’,” he hummed.

Crowley grinned in response, flashing a set of fangs that had Ezra shivering with excitement at the thought of being bitten with them. To his disappointment, however, Crowley didn’t. He just leaned over slightly and pressed his face into the crook of the smaller man’s neck.

“Angel…” he purred.

A forked tongue tickled at Ezra’s pulse point and he giggled at the sensation. “If I recall correctly, this is the part where I politely asked you not to eat me.”

Crowley nodded.

“Yes. Angel was too sweet.  _ Mate  _ was too sweet,”

Ezra patted his husband’s chest with a giggle. “Yes. I was  _ quite  _ shocked when you said that, believe you me. I had desperately hoped you meant  _ friend.” _

He lifted his gaze to meet Crowley’s, who was staring down at him in adoration.

“Not ‘friend’. Mate,” His rough hands once again traced down the side of Ezra’s face to cup his cheek, his smile unbearably tender.  _ “My mate.” _

Ezra nodded and reached up to play with a lock of his husband’s hair. The angel’s tealish eyes crinkled at the corners with happiness. “Indeed. And I will never be anyone else’s,” he said softly.

“That’s not what you said the first time,” Crowley replied teasingly. “You tried to get  _ away  _ from me.”

“Yes, well, I know better now,” Ezra huffed, crossing his arms.

“Well, in that cassssssse…” the naga said, depositing Ezra back on the ground. Crowley took a moment to get back into character.  _ “My  _ mate?” he asked, excited, and patted his own chest.

The earnestness in his voice, and the way his eyes were slightly wide with a kind of glee that could usually only be seen on Christmas morning, had Ezra’s heart melting as sure as if it were a piece of chocolate.

_ “Yes,  _ Crowley. My dear, dear serpent and protector… I would love  _ nothing  _ more than to be mated to you,” he said, stepping closer.

_ “Wahoo!” _

If Crowley had legs to jump up and down with, he would have. As a substitute, he snatched up his mate into a bridal carry and twirled him, the two of them giggling like schoolchildren and exchanging sweet kisses.

Ezra nuzzled his husband’s cheek and whispered, “So… hypothetically… if I  _ had  _ accepted your courtship right away, what would have done with me?”

By way of answer, Crowley kissed him. It was not a harsh, aggressive kiss like the other had been expecting, nor was it a soft, gentle kiss. It was somewhere in between, heavy with  _ promise.  _ The redhead pulled back, his thumb and forefinger curling under Ezra’s chin.

“How about I show you?” he said, eyes burning and smile predatory.

He shifted his body so that he sat atop his own tail, the rest of his length spread out before him as if he were stretching his legs. He sat Ezra down so that the blond straddled his tail, chests pressed together.

_ “Oh!”  _ Ezra tittered, legs spread so wide over the width of his husband’s tail that his toes barely grazed the ground on the other side. With a thought and a snap, he banished his clothes back to the safety of their nest.

He hummed as he wriggled in place, enjoying the feel of the naga’s cool scales against the sensitive skin of his bare inner thighs. Crowley dragged his hands down Ezra’s sides. One hand came to rest on his hip, while the fingers of the other cheekily traced along the cleft of his arse before pulling away again.

Ezra groaned and writhed at the tease, arousal thrumming all the way down to his bones.

“I think, the firsssst thing I would do, would be to  _ worship,”  _ Crowley murmured, slowly running open palms over soft skin.

He began to kiss down Ezra’s body, starting from his lips, to his cheek, to his neck, sternum, stomach…

In one serpentine motion, Crowley flopped onto his back and  _ dragged  _ Ezra forwards until he could take his mate’s half-hard cock into his mouth. Ezra gasped his husband’s name, fingers instinctively curling into blush-red hair. 

Crowley chuckled around the rapidly swelling length on his tongue, letting it sit there and peering up at Ezra through hazy eyes. The sight of it had the poor angel nearly trembling to atoms.

_ “Please!”  _ he gasped, unsure of exactly  _ what  _ he was begging for. “C-crowley…”

He jerked in surprise when he felt a questing finger press itself against his hole. Crowley began to work his mouth over Ezra’s cock in earnest, sucking gently as his finger lazily traced his mate’s rim. Ezra tightened his hold on Crowley’s hair hard enough to hurt, but that only spurred the naga on. Heat pooled in Ezra’s abdomen, and he needed  _ more.  _

Just as he was about to reach his peak, the finger disappeared, as did the heat and wetness around his erection.

“Did you think I was going to jussst let it end that quickly?”

Crowley sounded  _ far  _ too smug for someone who had been sucking a cock only seconds before, but Ezra couldn’t find it in his heart to complain. The promise of  _ more  _ had him perking up like a dog with a treat.

“What  _ else  _ would you have done?” he breathed, body flushed practically down to his ankles.

Once again, Crowley didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he twisted his coils into a heap and gently pressed Ezra down into them, so that the human was on his back and smiling up at him. Crowley arched down and hungrily kissed his mate until they were  _ both  _ slightly dizzy from lack of air.

“After I’d thoroughly venerated you, I’d let you feel  _ me,” _ he whispered, eyes like liquid gold, as he pressed their bodies together.

His hemipenes had made an appearance at some point in the proceedings, and now nestled Ezra’s own rigid length between them. Crowley took a moment to appreciate the sight of them, before beginning a rocking motion that had the appendages sliding together.

“I- you- you-” Ezra stammered, thrashing his head side-to-side as he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew if he looked down then their love-making would end before it could truly begin.

He felt Crowley’s hair tickling his face as he leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “Do you like how thissss feels? How  _ I  _ feel?”

Ezra nodded, finally opening his eyes to meet his husband’s gaze. Even with all the love shimmering between them, practically visible to the naked eye, he couldn’t resist being a bit of a bastard.

“Was this  _ all  _ you wanted to do to me that first day?” he teased, reaching his hand between their writhing bodies to close around a hemipene.

Crowley, however, caught his wrist before he could. He did the same with the other one, keeping Ezra’s hands at his sides.

“Nice try, angel,” he tutted, voice warm but firm. He shifted his hold so that their fingers were entwined together. “But you asked what I would do to  _ you,  _ not the other way around.”

He undulated against Ezra with that obscene kind of grace that could only come from a pair of snakeish hips. The angel rolled his own upwards in retaliation,  _ needing  _ to be filled.

“Please,” he gasped into Crowley’s mouth. He looped his arms around his husband’s back. “I need you inside me!”

“I know,” Crowley panted back. “And I’m gonna give ‘em to you.” He pulled away until he was rearing back on his haunches (or what counted for haunches). He untangled their fingers, then held up a hand in a way that looked like he was about to snap. “I, uh… don’t have any of thossse berries right now, so if you could just…”

Ezra managed to reign in his runaway lust long enough to understand what Crowley was getting at. With shaky hands, he snapped, preparing himself instantly. 

“I hope you’re intending to give me  _ both  _ of those,” he said tersely. Although taking both of Crowley’s hemipenes was something that he only did every so often, the two of them had enough experience to know by now how to do it with minimal difficulty or risk of harm.

Crowley grinned and leaned down again, caging Ezra between his arms. Ezra could feel the tips of his mate’s cocks nudging against his slicked hole. “Oh, angel… if you had let me, I’d have taken you that firssst day. Jussssst. Like. Thissssss.”

The first hemipene’s penetration had Ezra’s breath catching in his throat from sheer  _ want.  _ The second, following immediately after, punched all that air back out. Everything about their coupling, the intensity of his husband’s gaze, the sounds of their bodies moving in unison, the ethereal glow of the moss in their cave, all of it struck Ezra as something he could have had from the beginning had he been brave enough (or foolish enough) to take it when it was offered. The realization of it had Ezra burying his face in Crowley’s neck, hooking his legs together behind the naga’s back, and hiccuping from the overwhelming emotions that warred inside him.

“Are you okay?” Crowley asked, slowing his thrusts. “You're crying. Does it hurt?”

“I’m  _ wonderful,”  _ Ezra replied, pulling him down for a kiss. “I love you  _ so much!”  _ The truth of his statement, and the strength of Crowley’s love smouldered warmly in his chest like a comforting hearthfire.

Relieved that his mate wasn’t in any pain, Crowley returned to his previous ministrations. He slowly started pulling out, until only the tips of both cocks remained inside the warm body beneath him. Then, he pushed forward again, filling Ezra in one firm motion.

Ezra moaned and clawed at Crowley’s back, unable to stop himself from leaving faint red marks. Crowley pulled back and drove in again and again; not at a breakneck pace, but enough to where there was only the span of a single breath between thrusts. 

Their chests never separated, and Ezra’s own cock was trapped between their stomachs. It was  _ just  _ enough friction to be pleasurable, but not enough to fully tip him over the edge. He needed something else.

“I can practically  _ sssmell  _ your frustration. What doesss my mate want?” Crowley hissed desperately. The answering noise he received had shivers creeping up his many vertebrae.

_ “Bite me!” _

“Fuck!” he growled.

Ezra was now beyond words, and simply tilted his head to expose his neck. Crowley’s pupils contracted to needle-thin slits when his eyes alighted on the Mark he’d left there years ago. It stood out darker against the pale flesh of Ezra’s throat, but still looked as fresh as if it had been given only yesterday. 

Crowley struck directly over that same spot, his fangs piercing the skin. Ezra’s world  _ exploded  _ into sensation and he arched his back in a silent scream of ecstasy as he  _ finally  _ tipped over that edge and into sweet, blissful release.

Crowley howled around where he’d bitten down as he followed his mate into completion. Afterwards, they clung to each other for an unknowable amount of time as they came back down from their mutual post-orgasm high. Ezra’s hand gently and repetitively stroked along the length of Crowley’s hair.

“Oh, my darling. That was… was…”

Crowley smiled from where he rested against Ezra’s shoulder. “And  _ that’ssss  _ what I would have done had you said ‘yes’ the first time,” he croaked, throat dry.

He rumbled happily as the tips of his fingers danced along Ezra’s other shoulder. The angel sighed in contentment. He was still stretched open around Crowley’s softening lengths, his husband’s spend dribbling down his thighs. Despite the somewhat uncomfortable sensation, he was loath to move and thus be separated from Crowley. 

“If  _ that's _ what I could have expected, I would have agreed to be your mate the minute you’d suggested it,”

The redhead tilted his face up and kissed Ezra, slow and lazy.

“Well, we got here in the end, didn’t we?” he said softly. “Happy Anniversary, angel.”

Ezra didn’t bother trying to smother his love-sick expression as he held his husband close. “Happy Anniversary, Crowley. I look forward to the next hundred.”


	48. Epilogue Chapter 9: Cleave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel's wings are very precious things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for DarnWaffles, who requested someone seeing Ezra's new wings, and the reaction therein. I kiiiiiind of went a little starkers (or just plain off the rails) with this request ^^'
> 
> CW: EVERYTHING. LITERALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING. Emotional/Physical/Mental Torture, Gore, Violence, Blood, etc. This chapter DOES end happily, like all my work does, but PLEASE keep these warnings in mind before you read.

Ezra woke in the middle of the night, shivering.

He tried to reach down and pull the covers over his body but his arms refused to obey. He let out a frustrated, sleepy groan.

“Well, well, looks like the little angel’s waking up,”

_ That wasn’t Crowley’s voice! _

Ezra’s eyes snapped open at the same time the bedside lamp clicked on, temporarily blinding him. He let out a pained cry that was immediately stifled by a cloth gag tied around his face.

“Ssh, ssh, ssh. Sorry about the rudeness, but I can’t have you screaming for help, now can I?”

Ezra snarled and fought against the foreign weight pinning him to the mattress as his eyes gradually readjusted to the sudden light. A wild face hovered over him, with sienna-coloured eyes blown wide with manic light and a riotous tangle of black hair. Ezra’s thoughts immediately flew to “home invasion” and he wildly cast his eyes about for his husband.

To his relief and confusion, Crowley was still asleep right beside him, his lips parted around a snore, but he didn’t seem to be at all responsive to the intruder  _ right in their bedroom. _ Even more confusing for him, was that Crowley was fully shifted - tail, scales, and all - but the burglar seemed more preoccupied with  _ Ezra  _ rather than the five-meter-long snake-man currently occupying the other half of the bed.

Ezra cried out around the gag and thrashed, but Crowley remained practically comatose.

Just  _ what  _ was going on?

Where were Crowley’s sisters? Were they alright? Ezra went to shove the man straddling his chest off, but his hands were kept in place near the top of the headboard with thick knots of rope. He went to snap his fingers to summon his magic, but nothing happened! Why wasn’t it working?!

He attempted to kick his feet, but found that they were similarly bound. 

His usual angelic strength and magic appeared to have deserted him.

The man above him let out a throaty giggle and slid off of him to stand at the bedside. He walked over to Crowley’s side of the bed, humming merrily the entire way.

Ezra caught a glimpse of something metallic and  _ gleaming  _ in the man’s hand and his frantic struggles increased in intensity.

_ No! Please! Don’t hurt him! _

The man inspected the entire length of Crowley’s tail for a moment, before giving him a rough shove, spilling the naga onto floor with a grisly thud. The man then stepped over the incapacitated serpent, and crawled onto the mattress. Ezra instinctively flinched away, but was unable to escape his bindings.

“Bring out your wings, angel,”

Ezra stopped his struggling and went slack with shock.

_ How… how did he-? _

The man giggled and held up the object in his hands.

It was a cleaver.

Ezra’s eyes blew wide with horror but he felt paralyzed, pinned in place like a butterfly on a corkboard (which was a fairly apt comparison, frankly). Despite his situation, he found himself deliriously wondering if that knife had come from his own kitchen or if the intruder had brought it with him.

“Show me your wings.”

Ezra screwed up every ounce of defiance he possessed, the same kind that allowed him to view being castaway as “a mild inconvenience”, and gave one slow, stubborn shake of his head. The Stranger - Ezra had begun capitalizing the “S” in his mind - only looked mildly put out, like he’d been told there was no sugar for his tea. He gave a shrug.

“Fine. I guess I can find some other way to occupy my time while you change your mind,”

With that, he started scooting backwards -  _ towards Crowley  _ \- and Ezra felt a greater surge of panic than he’d had at any point during his accostment. With barely any conscious effort, he instantly manifested his wings.

The angle was awkward due to the length of his wingspan and the relatively cramped quarters of their bedroom. He winced at the painful feel of the wing joint bending wrong against the wall, like someone had taken his wrist and twisted it backwards. The right wing almost knocked the Stranger’s head off entirely, and Ezra was deeply incensed that it hadn’t. 

The Stranger looked annoyed for all of half a second, before a look of slack-jawed wonder crossed his features. He set the cleaver down on the bedside drawer and approached the wing closest to him with trembling, reverential hands.

“So  _ beautiful…”  _ he breathed. “They glitter like… like sunlight on fresh snow…”

Ezra mentally rolled his eyes.

_ A madman  _ **_and_ ** _ a poet. Aren’t I lucky? _

As the Stranger continued muttering various praises about Ezra’s wings, the angel’s mind raced. All he had to do was buy some time while he waited for Crowley to awaken. Lashing out with the heavy appendage in the hopes of knocking out his attacker was  _ also  _ on the table, but he’d rather not risk a physical confrontation. If Ezra failed to bludgeon the other man into full unconsciousness instantly, he ran the risk of finding himself on the business end of that cleaver. 

His eyes flickered to the Stranger, whose hand was drifting back to the weapon in question. In a snap decision, Ezra twitched his wing, caressing the tips of his primaries across the madman’s face to catch his attention. The Stranger blinked sluggishly at the feel of angelically soft feathers on his cheek before leaning into the sensation with a pleased hum.

“These feel  _ incredible,”  _ he sighed blissfully. He grabbed the edge of the wing and pulled it closer to himself. Ezra bit back a pained groan at the tugging sensation on his back muscles. “Would you be cool with it if I took a few feathers to stuff in my pillow or something?”

Ezra was absolutely  _ not  _ “cool” with being plucked like a chicken, but he had little choice in the matter. With a swallow, he nodded. The Stranger’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Thanks, mate!” he said with a smile that would look friendly were it on  _ anyone else.  _ “I’ll make it quick, don’t worry! I’ve still got  _ a lot  _ I want to do with you tonight.”

Ezra screwed his eyes shut and prepared himself mentally.

_ I do hope he doesn’t start with the primaries…  _

To his slight relief, he felt the Stranger’s hand fist into the clumps of down along the top of his wing. That relief was instantly ripped away at the same time a large hunk of coverts were. Ezra let out a muffled shriek behind the gag.

It was like someone had torn away a giant hangnail! He felt his blood bubble up from the tiny wounds and drip onto the mattress. 

The Stranger winced in sympathy, his hand clenched around a ball of once-white feathers now pinkened with blood. “Oof. That’s gotta hurt,” he said apologetically. “Didn’t think wings were that sensitive.”

Suddenly, his eyes brightened and he let the feathers fall from his hand in a sticky clump. He snatched up his cleaver and pressed the edge of the blade against the thin skin of Ezra’s wing. The blade was dreadfully dull, but would be able to hack through bone and sinew with enough time and force.

The Stranger rocked the knife’s edge across the skin, pressing down just hard enough to leave a faint, stinging cut. He hummed speculatively when he pulled the blade away, observing how the limb twitched beneath his hold. “So sensitive…” he murmured. “So soft…”

When he lifted the cleaver higher this time, Ezra reacted on instinct.

The angel lashed out with his wing, smashing the heavier bones against the Stranger’s face, sending him crumpling to the ground.

**_Please_ ** _ let that have worked.  _ **_Please, please, please…_ **

Ezra’s heart sank to the floor and places beyond as the Stranger staggered back to his feet, clutching his cleaver in a hand that trembled with rage. His nose may have been broken, for all the blood that dribbled from it, but he was otherwise unharmed. The Stranger swiped at the blood on his face with the back of his hand, smearing it across his lips like a cannibal after a gruesome feast.

“You will  _ regret that,  _ you pretty little bird,” he snarled sharply, eyes sparking with fury. “I’m gonna take your wings, then make you  _ watch  _ as I skin Anthony over there  _ alive!” _

Ezra let out a gagged scream of pain, fear, and anger and swung out with his wing once more. The Stranger dodged it easily and climbed atop the bound angel until he was sitting atop his chest. The added weight kept Ezra from squirming and made it hard for him to breathe. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as the Stranger pinned his right wing to the mattress and held the cleaver aloft, ready to bring it down.

_ What wasn’t Crowley waking up?! _

***~*~*~*~***

Crowley’s eyes opened and the first thing he saw was the underside of his and his mate’s bed. Something black was dripping from the underside of the mattress to pool in a slowly growing puddle. He blinked in sleepy confusion. Had he fallen off the bed in the middle of the night? That was unusual…

The next thing he saw were the feathers.

Feathers of all sizes were scattered around like fallen leaves; some white, some stained pink. One of them, wet with red, fluttered to the ground in front of Crowley’s face. Without lifting his head, his tongue darted out to scent it.

It smelled like his angel.

_ And blood. _

Instantly awake, Crowley pushed himself up on his hands with a panicked gasp. His mate was laying on their bed, wings outstretched to the sides but there was something…  _ wrong  _ about them. With a sickening lurch, Crowley realized what it was.

They weren’t  _ attached! _

Ezra’s wings had been arranged to look spread out in all their glory, but the joint where they would have attached to his shoulder blades had been clumsily hacked away, jagged bits of bone and strings of sinew dangling limply in the gap between wing and body. Blackish-red blood oozed from the stumps, staining the mattress clean through to the floor below.

Crowley screamed and practically threw himself atop his mate, barely clinging to coherency as he cupped Ezra’s face in trembling hands.

“A-angel? What… what  _ happened?!”  _ he sobbed.

Ezra’s face was ashen. The blood seeping from his back had stained the back of his hair as pink as the tattered feathers scattered around their bedroom.

God, there was  _ so much blood! _

Crowley could hear it steadily dripping onto the floor, but he blocked out the sound as he ripped away the rope keeping Ezra’s hands and ankles bound. The blond’s arms and legs flopped uselessly to the mattress and his head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded and grey.

Crowley didn’t know what to  _ do! _

Ezra wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, wasn’t  _ breath- _

“Looks like I still know how to use a knife after all these years, eh Ant?”

Crowley froze, the sound of his old nickname as loud as a gunshot shattering the silence.  _ Nobody  _ had called him “Ant” in hundreds of years. Not since…

Since…

He turned his head slowly, rigidly, to face the bedroom door. A man stood there. A man whose face Crowley thought he’d never see again.

“Edward?” he croaked feebly, pushing himself up onto his tail.

“In the flesh!” Edward cried triumphantly.

He spread his arms, stained up to the elbows with red and bits of viscera.

“Y-you can’t be here,” Crowley stammered, placing himself defensively in front of Ezra. “You’re dead. I  _ know  _ you’re dead.”

“What do you think of my latest masterpiece? Your little bird’s not so pretty now that I clipped his wings,” Edward replied proudly, gesturing at the gruesome tableau on the bed.

Crowley snarled at Edward in a potent mixture of grief and hatred. 

“I don’t care  _ how  _ you’re here, but I will  _ not  _ let you take one sssstep closer to him!” the naga hissed at his former battle-brother. Edward looked at him in surprise.

“A little late for protecting him now, don’t you think? He’s been dead for some time now,” he said, glancing at Ezra with a mildly amused smirk.

Crowley’s pupils contracted to slits as he whispered a horrified,  _ “No…” _

No.

Edward  _ had  _ to be lying.

Ezra was  _ breathing.  _ He’d  _ been  _ breathing when Crowley checked on him.

Right?

Crowley was hesitant to take his eyes off of Edward, in case that cunning bastard tried something, but…

But his mate  _ needed  _ him.

With a low warning growl, Crowley turned to check on Ezra again.

The moment he did so, his mouth dropped open around a moan and his limbs went numb. His higher mental functions began shutting down one by one as he took in the ghastly scene before him.

Ezra’s wings were gone, like they’d never been there to begin with.

Instead, he lay sprawled on his back, limbs akimbo as if he had dropped onto the mattress from the ceiling. His eyes were wide open, face frozen in a look of agonized betrayal. Foamy blood bubbled up from between parted lips parted around a sob.

His chest was entirely concave, crushed inwards beneath a  _ massive  _ force. His pajama shirt hid the worst of the damage, but it couldn’t conceal the dark-red stain from underarm to underarm.

Crowley howled, a wordless sound of loss and anguish. He felt hot bile rise up in the back of his throat and his mind  _ refused  _ to accept what he was seeing. He rounded on Edward, intent on ripping the other man to  _ pieces. _

Edward, however, was gone.

_ Everything  _ in the room was gone, apart from blank, featureless walls, the bed, and Ezra’s mutilated remains.

Crowley slithered a circle around the bed, searching for a door like a caged animal. 

The entire time, Edward’s mocking voice echoed from nowhere, yet everywhere. “You did this, Ant. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

**_“LIAR!!”_ **

“You couldn’t save me. You couldn’t save him. Did you really think it was real? Did you think  _ any  _ of this was real?”

Crowley shrank back, staring helplessly at the ceiling which seemed to stretch on into eternity. “N-no I… Ezra’s fine. I- he’s-”

“None of this is  _ real,  _ Ant. The flat, the angel, coming to London. It’s your mind’s last desperate attempt to cling to itself as it fades away. Ezra died on that island,”

Crowley curled in on himself, scratching at the scales creeping up his arms. “No…  _ no!  _ That’ssss not true!”

“You  _ know  _ it is, Anthony,” came Ezra’s rasping voice.

Crowley keened, breath coming in short quick bursts as he heard the ghastly thing on the bed sit up with the crackling sound of shifting bones. He screwed his eyes shut tight and willed the thing to  _ go away!  _ If these were to be his final moments, let them be in  _ peace! _

When he felt too-cold hands wrap around him from behind in a cruel mockery of a loving embrace, he screamed.

And screamed.

And  _ screamed. _

And woke up.

***~*~*~*~***

Ezra didn’t wake with a shout, but he  _ did _ with enough tears pouring down his face to soak the pillow beneath him.

_ Crowley  _ sat up with a wild shriek.

Despite his own dazed confusion, Ezra snapped his fingers to ensure the neighbors wouldn’t call the police for what sounded like a murder-in-progress.

Crowley continued wailing, his hands slapping at his own torso as if trying to bat away something and his whole body trembling hard enough to rattle the bed frame. Ezra reached over to the bedside lamp and clicked it on, flooding their bedroom with warm, golden light.

He had to practically shout to be heard above his husband’s desperate sobs and wails. “Crowley!  _ Crowley!  _ Calm down! Edward’s gone! It was just a nightmare!”

Ezra placed his hand on Crowley’s shoulder to still the other’s flailing and the naga flinched, but it had the desired effect. Crowley’s eyes, previously blind with terror, swivelled over to affix their gaze on Ezra’s. Both blue and gold became damp with tears.

“Show me your wings, angel,” Crowley said in a quiet, pleading voice. Ezra winced, Edward’s words still ringing in his ear.

His husband was more important, however, so Ezra unfurled his wings, as whole and flawless as ever. At the sight of their perfect shine, Crowley scrambled to get his hands on them. He was accidentally a bit rougher than strictly necessary, but Ezra knew that Crowley needed the reassurance that they were fine.

The naga’s hands stroked over long primaries and his fingers skirted the tops of the wings, checking for so much as a puff of down out of place. He meticulously combed through every inch on both appendages until he was satisfied that they were unharmed.

Immediately afterwards, however, he practically yanked Ezra’s shirt up to palm at the pale skin underneath. Ezra let himself fall backwards and went limp in semi-submission, allowing Crowley to poke and prod at his chest, testing the structural integrity of his rib cage.

“I’m alright, darling, see?” the angel said with as much patience as he could muster. He was still shaken up from his  _ own  _ nightmare.

“Don’t-” Crowley sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I can’t… I  _ need  _ to know this is real. Call me by my name.”

Ezra blinked, his hands coming up to frame his husband’s tear-streaked face. “Y… your name?” he asked, voice cracking slightly in confusion.

_ “My. Name,”  _ Crowley insisted, cupping the hands on his face; whether to yank them away or press them closer, Ezra was unsure. Another tear slipped down his cheek.

Ezra gasped slightly in realization. He sat up and leaned forward to whisper in the other man’s ear. “Crowley,” he said gently. “You are called Anthony J. Crowley-Fell by others, but your  _ name  _ is Crowley.”

His husband slumped forward in relief like a marionette with its strings cut and Ezra wrapped his arms around him to keep him upright.

“In- In my dream, you were dead, and you called me ‘Anthony’. You didn’t call me by my name. Edward ssssssaid- said none of this was real and…” he slurred, dazed.

“...and you needed me to prove it was,” Ezra finished. He managed a wobbly smile, guiding Crowley down onto the mattress beside him. The naga’s eyes were shut, his posture limp with exhaustion. For Ezra, the terror of their shared nightmare finally sunk in. He sniffled. “I- I’m so sorry, darling. This whole evening was all my fault!”

One of Crowley’s eyes snapped open, as if he hadn’t been on the brink of falling back asleep.

“All your fault? What are you talking about?” he asked. He scooted closer to take his mate in his arms.

Ezra welcomed his embrace, hiding his face in Crowley’s chest. A choked noise escaped his throat before the words came. “I… I had a bad dream,” he croaked, shaking. “And I think maybe, with my magic, I might have dragged you into it because I- I  _ saw  _ your nightmare  _ too.  _ I saw what Edward did to my… my wings and I  _ heard  _ what he said to you. All I could think about was where you were, why weren’t you there and it- I-”

Crowley wrapped his tail around Ezra, shushing him. “Ssh, ssh, angel, it’s okay. We’re okay,” he whispered. Ezra let out a small noise of acknowledgement. “None of this was your fault. It just happened. Did you… did you  _ feel  _ anything when Edward cut...”

“No, thank God,” Ezra said hoarsely. He tilted his head up to look at Crowley through watery eyes. The blond managed to produce a mirthless chuckle. “After the knife came down I ‘woke up’, I suppose, but I wasn’t  _ there.  _ I saw my… my body… and I saw Edward. I think that it was still  _ my  _ nightmare, but with  _ you  _ in it, because there’s  _ nothing  _ that scares me more than seeing you in pain.”

Crowley’s face crumpled. “Oh, angel,” he said in barely a whisper. He rested his chin on Ezra’s head. “My worssssst fear is that all this has been a figment of my imagination. That I’m sssssstill back on the island, trapped as a monster and all a- alone.”

Ezra hugged him tightly for several moments. “You aren’t alone, my love. And you never will be again. I  _ swear  _ it to you; I swear it on  _ all  _ my mother’s stars.” he vowed, pressing his cheek to Crowley’s shoulder.

The knot of fear around his heart loosened, then vanished, as the other gave a tiny nod. They laid there in silence for an unknown amount of time before one of them finally deigned to speak. “What time is it?” Crowley asked quietly. All the fear and adrenaline had left him worn out, and he wasn’t keen to get up and face the morning.

Ezra summoned his phone to his hand with a snap and peered at the screen. “It’s roughly three a.m.; how apropos,” he said with faint amusement. “Would you like to try falling back asleep or would you rather stay up?”

Crowley closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over himself and his mate alike.  _ “Sssssleep,”  _ he answered. He was already halfway there, as a matter of fact. “‘M knackered.”

Ezra’s mouth curled up in a smile. “That sounds like a  _ wonderful  _ idea, darling,” he said, the love he felt for his husband shining out from every inch of him. “I’ll do my best to make sure I pull you into a  _ good  _ dream, this time.”

“No need…” Crowley mumbled sleepily. “‘M already livin’ one.”

Ezra let out a rather unflattering, squeaky noise at that. His husband, thankfully, didn’t hear it, as he had already fallen back asleep, safe and secure in his angel’s arms. Ezra sighed happily and burrowed deeper into the covers.

With Crowley warm and safe beside him, it took little effort for Ezra to follow him down into better dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can suggest things you want to see for an Epilogue Chapter or one-shot or visit me at my Tumblr, candyqueenblog.tumblr.com!


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